


Dissolution

by miss_mina_murray



Series: The Unwoven Tapestry [5]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Asunder rewrite, Gen, au where justinia has a backbone, evangeline is a teensy bit naiive, lambert's life is suffering but he's a bad guy so who cares, the templars suck and even the lord seeker thinks so, vivienne kicks ass as usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-09 17:02:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11108949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_mina_murray/pseuds/miss_mina_murray
Summary: The Circles are on the edge of revolt, Orlais is descending into war, and a spirit haunts the Spire.  Chaos is beginning to encroach, despite the best efforts of those trying to stop it.  The Divine and the Lord Seeker wage quiet war with each other, and meanwhile, everything around them falls apart.





	1. We Have Fed The Heart On Fantasies

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, folks! here's the other half of the interlude between falling leviathan and the next installment. this is meant to be read in conjunction with Separation
> 
> this one also follows asunder pretty closely right up until about a third of the way through, when stuff starts to get a little wild, and that's where we are now

Lord Seeker Lambert was not pleased. He had, as a matter of fact, moved past 'displeased,' beyond 'angry' and was fast approaching 'apoplectic with rage.' 

This was a fairly regular state of affairs, to be quite honest. Since Kirkwall, there was little to be pleased about. Although Elthina still lived, the fact that a mage had openly attacked the Chantry made everything...tense. Warden-Commander Surana had eluded him all this time, and now, so did Lady Hawke as well as the majority of the Kirkwall Circle and First Enchanter Orsino. 

Now Empress Celene was missing, and Orlais threatened to descend into total war, with Gaspard vying for the throne.

Of course, Gaspard could not take the throne, as he was missing too, and his forces appeared to be under orders that were too old to be accurate. It was concerning, as the lack of Gaspard's leadership meant it was possible someone else would take the reigns of his military. 

The College of Enchanters had been disbanded at Lambert’s advice, and now, of course, the Circles were agitating. There were murmurs of dissent in Calenhad (first Surana, and now this Anders had become rebels—the younger mages idolized them), the haughty nobles in Montsimmard, everyone in bloody Kirkwall had fled entirely, and to top everything off, there were rumors of some sort of serial killer in the White Spire. And speaking of the White Spire, the Divine had almost been assassinated by a mage from that place. 

All of this resulted in everything being in almost total chaos. The civil war in Orlais was disorganized and confused, Halam’shiral had been on fire at some point (Lambert hardly had any idea of what that was about, the Game eluded him in a number of ways), and of course, there were the Circles. There were always the Circles.

Several First Enchanters were going to come to the Grand Cathedral to try and talk the Divine into reversing her decisions about the College. The Grand Enchanter would likely come as well, a woman that Lambert thoroughly disliked, not simply due to her dangerous magic and attitudes, but she had a stunningly disagreeable personality. 

It was almost too much to deal with.

The serial killings at the White Spire were something within Lambert's control. Enchanter Jeannot, the would-be assassin of Divine Justinia, had dabbled in blood magic. It was possible that the killings had to do with him, although blood mages within Circles were not in the habit of killing multiple people. Even so, if Jeannot had known blood magic, there was a very good chance others did as well. Investigating his compatriots might kill two birds with one stone, and allow him to both search for the killer and investigate the possibility of blood magic.

The strange killings had occurred in the cells that held initiate mages, and there were up to five deaths by stabbing at this point. Very unusual, considering that most demons didn't go for the stabbing option, none of the three mages had had knives on them (preventing them from taking their own lives), and the wounds were all from a long dagger or a very small sword, not from a broadsword of the like Templars usually used. No Templar had reported any killing in self-defense, either, which was a semi-rare occurrence that would have been easy enough to explain.

No, Lambert's main worry was blood magic, and as such, he went himself. 

To accompany him Lambert needed to pick a contingent of Templars that wouldn't unsettle the mages. Loathe as he was to do so, he still needed to try and pander to them—Meredith and her red-gleaming eyes and vicious reputation would do no good, despite her loyalty both to Elthina and to him.

He was rather concerned about Meredith and her Templars, to be quite honest. When Queen Aeducan had put sanctions on the lyrium trade, Meredith had not been concerned, saying that the red lyrium in Kirkwall worked quite well enough. 

Lambert did not feel the same way. It left Templars with red eyes and a bitter temper, and he knew the dwarven Queen considered it some kind of infection. However, so far, it seemed to be alright, and prevented the worst of the lyrium withdrawals. It was their only recourse until they could find someone willing to smuggle proper lyrium out of the mines. Aeducan had managed to put a chokehold even on illegally smuggled lyrium, gaining the favor of the Carta and having them deal with any black market sellers. It meant that there was only barely enough lyrium to go around, and there was none to spare for Kirkwall.

Lambert would hate to be a Templar right about now. The red lyrium or nothing? A sadistic choice if there ever was one. 

In any case, he needed to take at least one of the Templars who still used ordinary lyrium to the White Spire. He decided on Evangeline de Brassard.

Evangeline was a Templar, of the small contingent normally tasked with guarding the Divine. However, when the Divine had been attacked by a mage, for some reason, Evangeline had been sent from her side.

Lambert had a suspicion that the Divine blamed her bodyguards in part for the attack, but was too nice to say anything.

Pity. 

Evangeline was a decent enough Templar, even if she was soft in a way that made Lambert suspicious. She had never hunted apostates, only stood guard, first at the Circles, then at the side of the Divine. She was rather naive in her way, had never faced the dangers of magic head-on. 

The White Spire was claustrophobic and anxious, mages staring openly at the Templars as they passed, whispering and murmuring to each other.

Lambert supposed that was only normal. The dissolution of the College would cause a stir, even if it had been well received, not to mention the strange murders and Enchanter Jeannot's betrayal. It still set his teeth on edge.

Evangeline and the Knight-Commander first interviewed the Templars of the Spire, which got nothing, as was expected. These Templars were reasonably loyal in their way, but showed none of the exceptionalism of Meredith and her own Templars. 

To Lambert, Templars were useful, but most of them were not very intelligent. He didn't mind—intelligence was more useful a trait in a Seeker, anyway. No, Templars were cannon fodder, and Lambert could hardly blame them for not working out why the mage had attacked the Divine, or the reason for the strange killings. 

Then they interviewed several mages about the killings and the attack on the Divine, most notably Enchanter Rhys and Enchanter Adrian, who, like Jeannot, were part of the Libertarian organization. 

It was Rhys who drew Lambert's attention first, as Rhys was the one who knew something about the killings, on top of knowing Jeannot. He even asked about them. 

Lambert had begun to discuss demons, and immediately Rhys' back had straightened, and he began to tap nervously on one thigh. The fact that he knew the rough number of deaths could not be discounted either. 

He looked from Evangeline, to Lambert, to the Knight-Commander. 

“Am I being accused of something?” he asked at last. 

“I know that you, Adrian, and Jeannot were frequent associates, and you are all part of the Libertarian fraternity,” the Knight-commander said, her tone gentle. Lambert restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “You can see why that might be suspicious, surely.”

Rhys scowled, hands clenched in his robe. “So now you think we're all blood mages?” he demanded. “Just because Jeannot committed a crime that means we're all criminals?” 

“Questioning his associates--”

“I'm not associated with him, and neither is Adrian!” Rhys snapped, pale with anger. “If I'd known he was a blood mage, I'd've gone to the First Enchanter! For the love of the Maker, do you even have any idea what my specialty is?”

“Spirit medium,” Lambert grunted. “I fail to see what one has to do with the other.”

Rhys glared at him. “It _means_ , if I were to do blood magic, it would damage how well I could do my actual specialty,” he snapped. “Blood magic makes it harder to access the Fade. So, no, I wouldn't have associated with Jeannot even if I did know he was doing blood magic, which I didn't.”

Lambert took a deep breath. He'd heard the frequent argument that blood magic made access to the Fade and to spirits difficult. He did not see the point in the argument. Mages merely wanted for power—blood magic would give them power. 

“If you would simply tell us who he was close with--” the Knight-Commander said.

“No,” Rhys said.

Lambert raised his eyebrows. “Are you refusing to answer?”

“I won't implicate other mages who might have done nothing wrong!” he said. “We're always the first fraternity you turn to when something goes wrong, and I won't have you doing it here!” 

Lambert tilted his head to one side. “Then give us another answer.”

“You don't _want_ another answer!” Rhys got to his feet. “You won't be happy until you can string together a conspiracy that will make you happy. I know about you, Lord Seeker, and I know about the _Wardens_ ,” he spat. “So whatever you're going to do, you already decided it. So do it quickly.” 

Lambert sighed. “That was foolish.” he exchanged a look with the Knight-Commander, and then glared back at Rhys. This was exactly the sort of thing he were concerned about. “Fine. Leave,” he said. 

Evangeline lead Rhys out. Rhys shot another glare at Lambert over his shoulder. 

“Send the other one in,” Lambert said.

Adrian was just as bad if not worse than Rhys. 

“You didn't give a damn about those murders until someone tried to kill the Divine—well, she's alive, and they're still dead, and all you care about is a scapegoat for a crime that already has a perpetrator! This is ridiculous, and I won't help continue it.” she told them when they explained what this was about. 

“And I assume you don't care about blood mages in your midst?” he asked her, raising an eyebrow. 

“Even if I knew about a blood mage, it wouldn't matter, because that's not even what you're here to find!” she snapped. “You just want to find the most troublesome mage and make an example out of them, like you always do!”

“Adrian, you are not making the best case for yourself,” the Knight-Commander said, rubbing her forehead. 

“I don't care! Maybe if you bothered to do any kind of investigation when the first initiate was killed, I might be inclined to help!” she narrowed her eyes. “But oh no, one stray child or two dying? They're mages, who cares? But the _Divine_ \--”

“Initiates die,” Lambert growled.

“Not of stab wounds!” she stared at him, her eyes narrowed. “Unless it's a Templar doing it,” she said. “Then yes, a great many stab wounds.”

“It isn't the Templars,” Evangeline said.

“Oh, as if you'd admit it if it were.”

“We do not kill children, Enchanter.”

Adrian laughed for an uncomfortable amount of time, long enough that Evangeline began to glance at the Knight-Commander. “Where in the world did you pick her up?” she demanded of Lambert, pointing at Evangeline. “She's a bit naive, isn't she?”

“That's enough,” the Knight-Commander said. “Adrian...you can go.” she glanced at Lambert, who inclined his head.

Adrian huffed and left, slamming the door behind her. Evangeline winced. 

“Well?” the Knight-Commander said. “What do you think?'

“Rhys is more suspicious. He's a terrible liar.” Lambert said. “And a medium would be more in contact with spirits.”

Evangeline shrugged. “Most likely,” she agreed. “What about Adrian?”

“No, probably not. But I would keep an eye on her all the same.”

“Of course.” Evangeline nodded. She hesitated. “What did she mean?”

“Mean about what?”

“About the deaths of children. You can't have let children and initiates simply die without investigating it?”

The Knight-Commander snorted. “You cannot be serious,” she said, peering at Evangeline. 

Evangeline blinked once, deliberately. 

“Ser Evangeline, Templars dispose of _all_ threats,” the Knight-Commander sighed. “You are well aware of that.”

“Yes, but...” Evangeline trailed off. “Never mind.”

They interviewed several other mages, but none were as suspicious as Rhys. Jeannot was a loner, apparently, and even his fellow Libertarians didn't hold with him. They couldn't seem to find any of his close friends. 

All proceeded fairly normally until Rhys went missing. It was the middle of the night, and the mage had apparently vanished. Evangeline went to search for him, and after some time, found him, deep in the dungeons. 

She deposited him in a cell, claiming that his actions merited at least observation. Lambert could not disagree.

“What was he doing in the crypts?” Lambert wanted to know, as they watched the sleeping Rhys through the window into his cell.

“He wouldn't tell me.” 

He and Evangeline shared a look. 

“Were there any demons?”

Evangeline shook her head. “He was fighting something,” she explained. “But refused to tell me what it was. But there are many dangerous things in those crypts, Lord Seeker.”

“If not a demon, then it's possible it's something else,” Lambert agreed. He shook his head. “We can interrogate him later. We have something else to deal with now.”

Many mages were unhappy when they learned that Rhys was imprisoned, but Lambert had no time for their petty problems. Something much worse had come across.

Enchanter Wynne was here.

Enchanter Wynne, the veteran of the Blight. The spirit healer who appeared to have the Divine's ear, had more freedom than she had a right to have, and had the ability to sway the College if she put her mind to it.

Now she was here, and Lambert had no idea why. 

Wynne was tall and had skin that was papery white. She was elderly, but clearly quite strong, and did not so much as lower her eyes when she looked at Lambert. 

Lambert was never sure what to think of Wynne. She was loyal to the Circle, and had voted against independence any time it was brought up, cautioning patience and level-headedness, but she was not harmless, by any means. She was a friend to Commander Surana, and had fought in the Blight. She made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and there was something unmistakably dangerous about her.

She smiled when he met her, her demeanor pleasant and grandmotherly. He tensed, regardless.

“Lord Seeker,” she said in a pleasant tone.

“Enchanter,” he said. “Why are you here?”

“I am as concerned about these strange killings as you are,” she said. “I also came to see the Divine. I feel it is necessary to show you this.”

She held up an envelope.

“This is a writ from the Divine, allowing me free reign,” Wynne said, handing him the appropriate piece of paper.

Lambert stared at it, confusion furrowing his brow. “Why did she give you this?”

“The Divine and I get on quite well,” Wynne said. “I am on a rather important errand.”

“What errand might this be?”

“A friend of mine was performing some research in the Western Approach,” Wynne explained. 

Lambert raised his eyebrows. “The Approach? Why have I not heard of this?”

“It would be beneath your notice, Lord Seeker,” Wynne said, and though her tone was respectful, he couldn't shake the feeling she was mocking him. “In any case, I asked the Divine if I could find him, because he is a very dear friend, and she allowed me to do so.”

“Why you? Why not Templars?”

Wynne frowned and began to pace, worry lines creasing her forehead. Lambert did not take his eyes off of her as she walked back and forth. “She believes there might be demons,” she said. “She knows of my experience in handling them, she asked me to investigate.”

“You alone?”

She stopped and looked at him. “I can hardly go there without at least one Templar escorting me, can I?” she said with a little huff. “Really, Lord Seeker--”

Lambert sighed. “Why _you_? Mages are susceptible to demons--”

“As I said, I would hardly be going alone. And the Divine felt my experience at Calenhad would have sufficiently prepared me. And, if I might say so, Lord Seeker, Templars have a habit of being less than cautious with magical research.”

“Only the dangerous research,” Lambert growled. What was the Divine playing at?

“It was the Divine's feelings that a mage would have a more delicate hand,” Wynne said. “This research is very important to her.”

“Why? What is it?” 

“A new way to prevent demon possession,” Wynne explained. “She felt that any method to prevent demons is important, and as such, the research must be preserved.”

Lambert snorted. “Why does this search bring you here?” he demanded. “Why did the Divine not give you a Templar escort, and have you be on your way?”

“I need another spirit medium to help,” Wynne informed him. “There are very few, and the majority of them spirit healers. I couldn't take any healers away from a Circle, especially not with things being the way they are.”

“So you need a medium.”

Wynne inclined her head. 

Lambert had a nasty feeling he knew who was wanted, but asked anyway. “Who?”

“Enchanter Rhys.”

Lambert narrowed his eyes at her. 

“That man is currently in a cell,” he said. “We suspect him of a crime against the other mages of the Spire.”

Wynne gave a tiny frown. “I would request you release him, Lord Seeker.” she said. Her tone brooked no argument. Her eyes slid down to the writ in his hand, then back up to his face.

Lambert clenched his teeth. 

“Of course, Enchanter,” he said. “As the Divine wills it.”

“If he is a danger, I am more than capable of dealing with him myself.”

He was sure that she was.

“As you wish,” he said. 

“And If I may I would convene the mages of the Spire,” Wynne added. “I am sure that recent events will have them in uproar. Perhaps my words could calm them.”

Lambert snorted. “I would not be certain of that,” he said. “But do as you wish.”

Lambert got Rhys out of his cell, and set about convening the mages of the Spire. He was fairly sure that Wynne would not inspire them to riot, she was more intelligent than that, so he left her to it. After the meeting (with which many of the mages were unsatisfied, if the general mood was anything to go by), Lambert met Wynne in the Knight-commander's office again, to await Rhys.

Rhys entered the office accompanied by Adrian and Evangeline. When he saw Wynne, his eyes widened in surprise.

“Mother,” Rhys said. 

Ah—Mother. Of course. No wonder she had wanted him released. 

The greeting was cold, to Lambert’s eyes. His mouth twisted. Typical mages—one couldn’t even greet his own mother with respect. 

He ignored the tiny reminder at the back of his head that told him Rhys was lucky to even know who his mother was.

Adrian seemed startled, as did Evangeline. Adrian's startlement was particularly interesting, as Lambert would have thought she'd have known of their connection already.

Wynne smiled. “Rhys.”

“What's this about?” Rhys asked.

“I need your help,” Wynne said. 

“My help?” Rhys raised his eyebrows. “What do you need my help for? Why would you even ask?”

“You could always return to the dungeons if you wish,” Lambert said.

Rhys and Adrian glared at him.

“Of course not,” Rhys snapped. “I simply want to know--”

“A friend of mine has become an abomination,” Wynne cut him off. Lambert narrowed his eyes. “He was performing an important experiment, and it ended poorly for him.”

Adrian and Rhys glanced at each other, their shoulders tense. Evangeline bit the inside of her mouth, her brows knitted in worry.

Wynne sighed and rubbed her forehead. “And the situation is...complex.”

“How so?” Rhys asked.

“My friend is Tranquil.”

Lambert was on his feet before his knew it. “That is impossible,” he snapped.

Wynne was calm as she looked up at him. “No,” she said. “It is not.” she looked back at Rhys. “You have researched demons, and you are a spirit medium. If this is either a failing of the Rite--”

“The Rite does not fail,” Lambert growled. 

The corner of Wynne's mouth twitched. “Even so,” she said. “It has happened.”

Rhys' eyes were very wide. “And if it has failed, we all need to know why,” he said. 

Adrian was smirking, and Lambert kept one eye on her as the discussion went on. He knew she was a troublemaker, unhappy with the treatment of mages, and he was quite sure she had elvhen blood in her line. Elves tended to be more trouble than humans. He looked at Wynne again. 

“This venture cannot be allowed,” Lambert said.

Wynne merely raised her eyebrows. “You would countermand the word of the Divine?” she asked, her voice carefully neutral.

“This is an ill-conceived idea that must be dealt with by Templars,” Lambert insisted.

Wynne's eyes flashed, but her composure remained calm. “As Calenhad and Kirkwall were handled by Templars, I assume.” 

Lambert felt a flush creep up his neck, and Rhys and Adrian both stared at Wynne, openmouthed. Evangeline shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable. 

“In any case, Lord Seeker, this is not for you to decide.”

“I am responsible for the safety of all mages in the Circle.” Lambert stared her down, but she didn't so much as blink. 

“If you wish to contact the Divine and confirm her orders, then you are free to do so.” 

He narrowed his eyes at her. 

Invoking Calenhad was a dangerous move. It was almost ten years ago now, but the incident still stung in the mind of every Templar. Knight-captain Gregoire's complete inability to contain the demons or even to properly Annul the Circle was counted as one of the greatest failures a Templar had yet committed. Even worse was how Warden-Commander Surana, currently a very wanted apostate, had succeeded where the Templars had not. 

Lambert seethed. He turned to Evangeline.

“Ser Evangeline,” he told her. “You will accompany the Enchanters to the Western Approach.”

Evangeline looked surprised, but she inclined her head in silent agreement. 

Wynne's eyes flicked to Evangeline, and for a moment Lambert thought she was going to protest, but she seemed to think better of it. 

Lambert resisted the urge to sigh. Thoughts of Calenhad brought thoughts of Warden-Commander Surana, and he was somewhat concerned that Wynne would take a page out of her book and find a way to slip the escort. He made a note to mention that to Evangeline later.

Wynne turned to Rhys. “Will you help me?” she asked. “You do not need to if you truly do not wish it.”

Rhys gritted his teeth for a moment. Again, Lambert was struck with disgust for his attitude towards her. 

“Very well,” Rhys said at last. “But...” his eyes turned to Adrian. “Considering the danger of this quest, you'll need more than two mages. All exorcism rituals I know of require at least three.”

Adrian's spine straightened. “Yes,” she said with a nod. “You should take me. And I know some battle magic, so--” she looked at Rhys.

Lambert scowled. He'd have to make a note of her, too.

“As you wish,” Wynne said. “Then we should leave as soon as is possible. You two, go and prepare.” she swept out of the room without so much as a backwards glance, and Rhys let out a long breath.

Later, the Lord Seeker sought out Evangeline as she was saddling her horse.

“Ser Evangeline.”

“Lord Seeker!” Evangeline turned, startled. “Do you need something?”

“Be on your guard with your charges,” he said. 

“Of course,”

“No,” Lambert cut across her. “Be more on guard than ever before. Not only are you guarding Rhys--”

“A possible danger,” Evangeline agreed.

“--And Adrian, who has quite clear rebellious leanings, but Enchanter Wynne as well.”

“Lord Seeker, she is an old woman,” Evangeline protested. “The Blight was almost ten years ago, and she urges the mages to peace. Why--”

Lambert silenced her with a look. “You of all people should know that mages of any kind are dangerous,” he said, then sighed. “In any case, this is still a woman who has been friends with Enchanter Surana.”

Evangeline nodded. 

“Of course, Lord Seeker.” she said. “Is there anything else?”

Lambert paused, considering. “Not at this moment,” he said. “But watch for anything unusual.”

Evangeline inclined her head.

The journey to the Approach and back would take several months. Lambert would need to head off whatever Wynne was doing and needed to meet with the Divine. Not to mention, of course, that beside the mages, there was the business with the Empress and Gaspard's feud and the possibility of it spilling over into Val Royeaux. 

Lambert left the Spire to go to the Grand Cathedral, to find Justinia.

The Divine was never not accompanied by her shadow, the left hand. The Nightingale. The redhead stared out at Lambert from under her hood, eyes cold and calculating. 

Justinia was much friendlier than Leliana, as was usual, but Lambert decided to cut straight to the point.

“Enchanter Wynne told me you had given her leave to do as she wished,” Lambert said. “Why?” 

“I felt that her need was warranted,” Justinia said. Leliana watched Lambert's every move, and he remembered with a jolt that she too had been there in the Blight. She had been one of Surana's staunchest supporters, and constantly maintained the innocence of the Wardens.

“To risk three mages for one abomination?” 

Justinia nodded. “The work that man was doing was important,” she insisted. He opened his mouth to protest, but she raised a hand and he was silent again. “And the Enchanter will be able to handle it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“She handled far more than one demon at Calenhad.” Justinia's eyes turned unusually flinty, and again, Lambert felt the keen failure of the Templars. Even the normally clement Justinia had no patience for a failure of such magnitude. “She will do what is appropriate. Besides, I am not so sure that is the most pressing issue.”

“No?”

“Her Majesty is still missing,” Leliana interjected. 

Lambert's stomach churned, but for a very different reason than before. “You have heard no word?”

“None.” Leliana's tone was neutral, but her shoulders were tense. “We have no idea where she is.”

“And Gaspard?”

“We do not know where he is, either.”

“So his army has no commander.”

Leliana inclined her head. 

Lambert began to pace. “So while the mages are rebelling, it is likely Gaspard's army will ride roughshod over all of Orlais.”

“That is quite possible, yes,” Leliana said with a nod. “Although the mages are by no means rebelling.”

Lambert rolled his eyes. “You need only give them a reason.”

“We may reach a solution yet, Lambert,” Justinia said. “Several First Enchanters wish to speak with me, and--”

Lambert spun to stare at her. “You would give them leave to come here?” he spat. “Even after--”

“Yes, even after the attempt on my life,” Justinia's words were cool. “The Grand Enchanter, as well as First Enchanter Irving and First Enchanter de Fer all wish to convene here.”

Lambert snorted. “And what do they want?”

“Madame de Fer, I believe you know,” Justinia said. “She wants nothing more than cooperation with the Chantry.”

Lambert hesitated, then nodded. He knew of Madame de Fer, the mage of the Orlesian Court. She had somehow worked her way into the favor of the Empress. A thought struck him. “Is it possible she knows where the Empress is?” 

Leliana shook her head. “We have already asked her.”

It was possible Leliana was lying. It was entirely likely that she was lying. He had no doubts that the Nightingale knew at least some of his plans. It was possible she was colluding with the College, the Wardens, and the dwarven Queen, all at once. He had no way of knowing.

“In that case, what are your plans, your Holiness?” he asked the Divine. 

The Divine pinched the bridge of her nose. “We are still searching for the Empress. Maker willing, she'll return and be able to help balance everything out before Gaspard's forces make this worse than it already is.”

“And if you cannot find her?”

“Then we defend Val Royeaux,” Justinia said. “Until someone is in charge of Orlais, officially, then we cannot allow any band of mercenaries to overrun it.”

“Of course not.”


	2. The Heart's Grown Brutal From The Fare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my gal viv is in this one and tbh that's all you need to know

It was three weeks after Wynne left that Knight-Commander Meredith as well as a contingent of Kirkwall Templars arrived at the Grand Cathedral. They were there at Lambert's behest, and with the growing tension from Gaspard's army, no one turned down a few extra sword hands.

He met Meredith at the White Spire. He didn't dare bring her to the Grand Cathedral, for fear the Nightingale would overhear. 

“Knight-Commander,” 

“Lord Seeker.”

Meredith's eyes gleamed red in the dull light, and Lambert had to suppress a flinch. She was waxen, her hair dull and her cheeks sunken, but her eyes were fever-bright. Her use of red lyrium was economical, but he worried about the side effects. They all knew the stories of Bartrand Tethras. However, the side effects of normal lyrium withdrawal occurred much quicker than any red lyrium madness, and with the hostility from the mages, they needed every edge they could get. 

“You still have no access to ordinary lyrium?” he asked.

“The dwarven Queen has begun to reign in most of the smugglers,” Meredith explained with a scowl. Her voice reverberated faintly, and he grimaced.

“Have you found any?”

Meredith shook her head. “Not enough to be useful. It appears many of the miners and smugglers are...occupied with something,” she frowned. “I suspect that the Queen is mustering an army.”

Lambert's frown deepened. “More of her paranoia?” the Queen's decisions had been defensive as of late, bulking her military and pulling back from trade relations with the surface. Rumors of the Dalish doing something similar had filtered in as well, but he couldn't be sure. There was never a clear direction in which the heathens would jump. 

“Quite possibly. Either way, we are having quite a difficult time acquiring any lyrium.”

“Your stores are empty?”

“The Kirkwallan stores have been empty for months,” 

“And the other Circles had little to spare, I assume.” Lambert's mouth twisted.

“Of course.”

Lambert sighed and ran a hand over his face. 'Then we must move quickly,” he said. “The Divine is becoming weak to these mages,” 

“What do you mean?” Meredith asked. “We knew that from the beginning.”

Lambert shook his head. This was true. “She will likely try to hamstring any attempts to deal with them before the problem becomes too large to solve,” he reasoned. “Is Elthina prepared?” 

“She has always been prepared,” Meredith's tone was arch. “She knows what must be done. The only question is, when do you plan to do it?”

“Not while she still has control of the Grand Cathedral,” Lambert said. “And the Divine's death could make Orlais dissolve entirely—with no clear line of succession, that would be a problem.”

Meredith frowned. “A very difficult one to solve.”

“True enough. It is also quite likely the Nightingale suspects.”

Meredith looked at him sharply. “You cannot let her rally against us.”

“I know. However, I know that the Seekers are loyal to me, and your people at least, are loyal to the Seekers.”

Meredith nodded. 

Lambert stood up and began to pace. “We cannot let this go on. Justinia will do little to quell the mages, or the actions of the dwarves and the Dalish. It is her lack of force that has lead to this situation with the mages in the first place. If she had been willing to use more force, then the entire situation in Kirkwall might have been avoided.”

“Will the clerics support Elthina?” Meredith asked. “I know of many, but--”

“Enough will,” Lambert nodded. “If Leliana and Justinia are both removed--”

“What about Seeker Pentaghast?” 

Lambert's face soured. “She will likely have to be removed as well,” he said. “As much as I regret it, her loyalty is to Justinia, not the greater good of all.” 

“What do we do now?” Meredith asked. 

“Killing Justinia at this time isn't an option,” Lambert said after a long moment's consideration. “Changing Divines while Celene is still missing would be disastrous. However, we cannot let the mages do as they will. Many enchanters are coming to Val Royeaux to beg favor from Justinia, and there is some experiment in the Western Approach that I do not trust. We must cut off the Circle of Magi, first and foremost.”

“Eliminate the Enchanters,” Meredith nodded. 

“The Grand Enchanter will come here,” Lambert said. “As well as several others. She is one of the most dangerous. She is a link between the Wardens, Fereldan, and the Circles.”

Meredith shook her head. “She should have been killed long before now.” 

Lambert nodded “Quite possibly,” he agreed. “But we could not afford to move too quickly before now. It is possible I can gain some kind of alliance with whoever is in charge of Gaspard's army now, however.”

“You think that rabble will gain a leader so quickly?” Meredith was dubious. 

“It is because they are a rabble that they will gain one. They--”

He was cut off when something made the walls shake. They both fell silent and looked around. 

“What was that?” Meredith breathed. 

“Gaspard's army,” Lambert snarled. “His forces were approaching Val Royeaux when I last checked--”

“Wait—is it possible that the mages are responsible--?” Meredith asked. 

Lambert got to his feet and charged out the door, ignoring Meredith. She followed quickly, and they soon joined a crowd of people who were leaving the Grand Cathedral to see what was going on.

“Stay here,” Lambert snapped at her. “Guard this place. I will see what--”

Another shake, and a rock from a catapult sailed right into the tower of the Cathedral.

Lambert was frozen for a minute as rock and stone rained down around him, then he cursed and dashed to the walls. On the wall, he quickly located the captain of the guard.

“What is it?” Lambert demanded of the captain. “What's going on?”

She pointed one shaking finger out over the walls.

A force approached the gates of Val Royeaux, flying under an unfamiliar banner. There was no mask or lion upon the flags that were raised. Instead, a black bird flew on a red background. Lambert, for a moment, was floored. “Who...?” he breathed.

“It's the Grand Duke's people,” the captain muttered. “Got to be, no one else is that big, but it's someone else who's leadin' them.”

“Those are Gaspard’s forces?” Lambert peered over the wall. “Do you recognize the heraldry?”

The captain shook her head. “That's no noble or noble house that I know of.”

“I thought their forces much smaller than that,” Lambert stared out over the walls, his eyes wide. 

“No, never,” The captain shook her head. “Lord Seeker, what do we do?” she asked. “The military is—well most of them are in that, we can call on the mages and the Templars, but them and the guard both can't stand up to that--”

“Are there other allies you could call upon?” Lambert asked. “Extra forces?”

“They'd take days to get here, and our alliances haven't exactly been so sound with the Queen missing and all!” the captain was pale.

A missile from a catapult struck the wall further down from them and blasted a hole in it.

“Andraste's ass, can we get some artillery out here?” the captain bellowed as both she and Lambert struggled to stay on their feet.

It was then that First Enchanter Vivienne De Fer, official mage to the court of Her Radiance the Empress Celene Valmont I and First Enchanter to Montsimmard Circle, came striding right past Lambert, her staff in hand. 

She was a very tall woman, made taller by her headdress that resembled a pair of dragon’s horns. She was dressed not in plain robes, but a long Orlesian-style coat and leggings. Her whole ensemble gleamed silver, as if she wore armor, not cloth. 

“Lord Seeker,” her tone was imperious and brooked no argument as she stared out at the forces attacking the walls. “Do tell me who I should be aiming at.” 

“First Enchanter, do not get involved,” Lambert snapped.

She looked at him, dark eyes contemptuous. “Perhaps this is not your country, Lord Seeker, but it is mine, and the country of my Empress,” she said. “Who should I be aiming at?”

“You are a mage of the Circle,” he reminded her through gritted teeth. “Not a citizen of Orlais.”

She gave a tinkling laugh that gave Lambert terrible flashbacks to the Orlesian court. “My dear, I believe you misunderstand the situation quite drastically,” she said. “A poor quality in a Seeker. Now, please tell me, who should I fend off before they knock the walls down and kill the Divine?”

She looked at him, and he said nothing. The silence stretched on. She gave a disappointed little tutting sound and rounded on the captain of the Guard. 

“Guard-Captain,” she asked her. “Perhaps _you_ can tell me.”

“Gaspard’s forces are mostly there,” the Captain’s voice was somewhat shaky as she stared at Vivienne and pointed out over the walls. “Madame de Fer--”

“Thank you, darling,” she said with a gracious smile. Around her staff gathered a globe of white light. “Now, if you please, step back,” she glanced at Lambert. “And Lord Seeker—I would request you not interfere. Do not think me so clumsy as to damage the city or any of our own people.”

Before Lambert could say anything, she raised her staff, and fire poured down on Gaspard’s troops. 

Madame de Fer's smile grew wider, and gained a predatory edge. The fire spread out, driving the soldiers back—they had no mages who could counteract the spell, and apparently had very little enchanted armor. Of course, Celene and the forces who answered directly to her controlled the majority of enchanted items and lyrium supplies, and those supplies would have been cut when the military was. 

Madame de Fer raised her staff again and sent a more concentrated blast of fire slamming down on one of the enemy siege engines, lighting the whole thing aflame. She did the same thing with a nearby catapult, and another, and the soldiers began to retreat. 

The fire had not so much as scorched the walls.

Lambert couldn’t help but stare at her. He had heard of Madame de Fer’s legendary skill, but had never seen it for himself. 

“Now darling,” she said, leaning back on her heels. “Do tell me if I have made a mistake.”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Lambert growled.

“Beggin’ your pardon, Lord Seeker,” the Guard-captain said, turning to stare at Lambert, her eyes huge. “But she was bloody right to do so!”

Lambert turned on her with a growl and she quailed. 

“Look, that spell did more damage than any one of our heavy artillery!” she said, voice hitching in fear. “Don’t see your Seekers doing anything like that, do I?” 

Lambert glared at Madame de Fer, who simply inclined her head. 

“Guard-Captain,” she said. “Will you be requiring my services any more?”

“N-no,” the Guard-Captain said. “No, thank you very much, Ma’am. We can take it from here. Gave us a chance.”

Madame de Fer smiled. “Do let me know if you need more help, darling,” she said. “There is no need to go letting those ghastly artillery machines loose on the walls of our fair city, is there?” 

“No,” the Guard-Captain smiled tremulously.

Vivienne swept away without so much as a backwards glance. Lambert followed her and grabbed her arm, halting her in her tracks. 

“You should _not_ have done that,” Lambert said, tightening his hold on Madame de Fer’s arm.

She stared at him, then at the hand on her arm, raising one eyebrow. He did not let go.

“My dear, this behavior is quite less than gracious,” she said, her voice silky and very dangerous. “I would think it more becoming of a Lord Seeker to pay such attentions to his enemies, not his allies.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You are no ally. You are a charge of the Circle.”

Vivienne smiled at him, and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “Then, my dear, you are committing quite a waste of resources,” she said. “Why should you relegate me to doing nothing while the city falls apart around Her Holiness? Would you truly allow this war to tear apart Val Royeaux because you are too afraid to use the power granted to you to use?”

“Magic is not meant to be used like that,” he said.

She raised her eyebrows further. “Why, darling, I am surprised at you,” she said. “Surely you recall how many spells of that nature are taught in the Circles? I am a Knight-Enchanter, after all.”

“They are not meant for--”

“If they are not meant for combat, perhaps they should not be taught in the first place,” her tone was still as light as ever. “Perhaps I should mention that to the other Enchanters...” she said thoughtfully. “Do you think, Lord Seeker? Perhaps rebellion would be quelled if less violent spells were taught. Of course,” she added. “All magical curriculum are approved by the Chantry.” her gaze caught his, and he saw steel in her eyes. “So I am uncertain why I would have been taught such things unless they were meant to be used.”

He let her arm go. 

She was right, in a sense. But she was also by no means the healer or cannon fodder that was meant to be created by the Circle.

She, even with her undying loyalty and spotless record, was as dangerous as any magister in her own right. He could smell the ambition on her, see that cold steel in her eyes--

“Might I perhaps leave your charming company, Lord Seeker?” she asked him. “There is a great deal of work to be done, after all.”

“Yes,” he told her. “Of course.”

He watched her go, and his stomach churned. 

Vivienne de Fer was described by all as one of the most loyal mages to the Circle. She was skillful, controlled, scoffed at the very idea of using blood magic, and was in fact so dedicated to repelling demons that the only time she ever interacted with a spirit was to make it return to the Fade. 

Montsimmard, under her watch, was a very safe and secure Circle. Hardly a possession or even a failed Harrowing to hear of.

However, meeting Madame de Fer in person made Lambert uneasy. This was not a woman who would ever be swayed, cowed, or told what to do. He had a nasty suspicion that she had many nobles wrapped around her finger, her claws sunk deep into the Orlesian court. 

She would be a problem. It did not matter how loyal she was, she would need to go. Her very loyalty doomed her, as she would doubtless not understand the necessity in the Lord Seeker's decisions.

Vivienne felt cold as she returned to the Grand Cathedral, feeling the Lord Seeker's eyes on her back.

Vivienne had come to Val Royeaux to speak to the Divine. This business of dissolving the College was counterproductive at best, and only lead to the destabilization of Orlais and indeed a great deal of southern Thedas. She had no idea why Justinia, a stabilizing and moderate element, would do such a thing. It made no sense, and in any case, stood to bolster the rebels' cause, adding to their fantasy of being downtrodden and threatened. The Circle pushed the mages, and the less enlightened of the mages pushed back. 

Upon meeting the Lord Seeker, however, she felt she knew who she could blame. 

She had never approved of the appointment of Lambert to the position of Lord Seeker. She thought him heavy-handed and boorish, much more used to the repulsive machinations of Tevinter than the civilized south. 

His distaste for even the most useful of magic only confirmed her suspicions. She decided that she would most certainly make friends with the Guard-Captain, who had a more favorable view of things. Lambert's paranoia could not be allowed to put the city or the Divine in jeopardy.

If Lambert wanted to throw away a resource that was handed to him, that was his business. However, she would not allow his short-sighted fears of more foolish mages to endanger the citizens of Her Majesty's city. 

Vivienne shook her head as she retreated to the Grand Cathedral. She needed to find someone more sensible, and she needed to speak to Justinia.

She could not find Justinia, but located Cassandra Pentaghast instead.

“Seeker Pentaghast, my dear,” Vivienne smiled when she saw her, and Cassandra gave a stiff smile in return. They had met several times before, when Justinia had attended the court.

Vivienne found Cassandra a bit brash, but a logical person, quite devoted to Most Holy and to the tenets of her own order. 

“First Enchanter,” Cassandra inclined her head. 

“Is the Most Holy safe?” 

“As safe as she can be, for now,” Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose. “We have little military forces with which to draw on, and the Empress is still missing--”

“Have no fear,” Vivienne assured her. “I can lend my aid to protect the walls, and I am sure the Templars and battle-mages of the Spire will be eager to help.”

Cassandra's face darkened. “The Lord Seeker would disapprove,” she growled.

Vivienne gave a delicate scoff. “Then the Lord Seeker is being foolish. This is a time for pragmatism. Even the Grand Enchanter and her get would place their own survival over their trivial complaints.”

“I suppose you have a point,” Cassandra said. 

Vivienne shook her head. “If only Celene had disposed of Gaspard sooner,” she said. “He had too much ambition, too much power. I warned her that this would not end well. Gaspard—and everything else--”

“It is difficult, I know,” Cassandra said. “I am pleased you are so willing to cooperate with us, even after the College was disbanded.”

“I am still here to contest that decision, my dear,” Vivienne said. “Disbanding the College will only lend fire to the rebels among us.”

Cassandra raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Is that so?”

“They believe they are the oppressed and downtrodden—and so you have responded by doing something they will see as oppressive.” Vivienne explained. “Of course, most people will do anything to put the blame somewhere other than themselves.”

“I see,” Cassandra heaved a sigh. “The Divine has called in several Templar contingents, and I believe the Lord Seeker has as well. Do you believe you can coordinate with the Spire mages and find those who can help?”

Vivienne nodded. “I will,” she promised. “I must warn you, I myself am no healer or defensive mage.” she gave a small, dangerous smile. “I am most effective when attacking directly.”

Cassandra was startled into a small laugh. “I see we have that in common, at least.”

“Do you know who the aggressor is?” Vivienne asked. “The army marched under an unfamiliar standard. The Captain of the Guard was certain it was Gaspard's army, but not marching under him.”

“We are searching,” Cassandra said, her eyes narrowed. “No one knows that particular heraldry.”

“A new player, I see.”

“Perhaps.”

“You are willing to let the mages endanger us all?” Lambert snarled. 

Justinia, Cassandra, and Lambert met in one of the more guarded rooms of the Cathedral. It was a small, cramped room, made more claustrophobic by the high emotions of those within.

“Lord Seeker, please,” Cassandra said. “We have precious few other forces! We have no other options--”

“The Templars,” Lambert said. “The Seekers, the Guard--”

“Will not be enough!”

Lambert slammed a hand down on the table. “That is not for you to decide!”

“No,” Justinia's voice was hard. “But it is for _me_ to decide. And I have decided to trust them.”

Lambert shook his head. “You cannot trust a mage! You were almost killed by one not six months ago!”

“And if we do not gain the aid of every possible ally, we will all certainly be killed by Gaspard's allies,” Justinia said.

The door opened. “I believe the Lord Seeker is letting his experiences in Tevinter cloud his judgment,” Vivienne came striding in, utterly calm. “Your Holiness, the Spire healers are currently coordinating with the healers of the Royal Hospital, and the First Enchanter is locating the best candidates for defending the walls as well as attacking Gaspard's forces. We will make no military move without your leave, however.”

“Thank your, Enchanter de Fer,” Justinia said with a relieved sigh. “Tell the First Enchanter she has military authority over her mages, although the Knight-Commander of course has the final word over who may be allowed to leave the Spire.”

“Of course, Your Holiness.”

“You cannot be serious,” Lambert growled. “The mages are too dangerous!”

Vivienne turned to him. “Lord Seeker, if you wish this city to fall into ruin, then by all means, refuse the help of the mages,” she said. “But if you wish for this place to stay standing--”

“The mages are too dangerous,” Lambert insisted. “What will happen once one becomes possessed, because they have too much freedom?”

Vivienne did not roll her eyes, but she managed to look incredibly derisive all the same. 

“Do you scorn healers and defensive mages?” she demanded. “Those who can rebuild shattered walls? You cannot allow the city to fall simply because you will not use the resources available to you.”

“We cannot be so desperate--”

“Lord Seeker,” Justinia snapped, uncharacteristically harsh. “The matter is closed. The mages will help, as will the Templars, and anyone else we can scrape up until we locate either Celene or Gaspard.”

Lambert glared at her. “Do we have any word from the other allies of Orlais?” he demanded. 

Justinia sighed. “None so far. King Alistair has said he will remain neutral until Orlais has a leader again, and everyone else is too far away.”

“Most of our allies are too distant to help,” Leliana came in as well, bearing a sheaf of parchment. “In one way or another.” she glanced at Lambert for just a moment. “Most Holy, we have found who is leading the army.”

Everyone leaned forward, interested at last.

“Who is it?” Justinia asked.

“A commoner, a chevalier named Madeline Dubois,” Leliana explained, setting the sheaf of parchment on the table. “She has proclaimed herself the new general and claims that since there is no clear line of succession, she should be able to claim the throne by force.”

“Is there no contest from others of Her Majesty's family?” Vivienne asked. “Duchess Florianne, perhaps, or...?”

Leliana shook her head. “None thus far.”

“Hm,” Vivienne tapped her chin. “This complicates matters. That a commoner sees enough chaos that she believes she could take the throne...”

“It matters little to you,” Lambert informed her. “If Celene is gone, you are no longer the official mage to the court.”

Vivienne laughed. “My dear, you have spent far too long a time away from the Game if you believe a mere physical absence of a player precludes that player from participating,” she said. “No, those who act now react to her absence. The board has not been reset.”

“Very true,” Leliana agreed, and Lambert turned his glare to her. 

“In any case,” Justinia said in a pointed manner. “How are we to defend the city? Madame de Fer, the mages...?”

“We will be ready,” Vivienne promised. 

Lambert scowled. “Most Holy--”

“Enough, Lambert,” Justinia said. “We can hardly argue over this when the city is threatened and our allies are dangerously few.”

Lambert gave a stiff bow. “As you wish, Most Holy.” with a last glare at Vivienne, he turned and left.

Justinia sighed, watching the door swing closed behind him.

For the next two weeks, Justinia was on constant guard. Lambert desperately wanted to put his plan into action, but had no time and no way of doing it that wouldn't plunge the city into even more chaos. 

Gaspard still had not returned to claim his army back from Dubois. 

General Dubois was intent on declaring herself Empress, but apart from the military, there was little popular support. Common opinion was that she was a bloodthirsty mercenary, which was truthfully probably the most likely option.

Word of Gaspard and Celene was still absent, and Wynne had not returned either. They all remained in a frightening limbo where everything was uncertain. Lambert eagerly desired to push his plans forward, but in his correspondence with Elthina, she advised against it. 

Elthina's opinion was that a change in Divines would surely push the south into even more chaos, and quite possibly split the Chantry in half. Elthina maintained that the mages and the clerics that did not necessarily support the Seekers would be useful; they only needed more time with which to get them on their side. 

On the other hand, if Justinia died now, it could be blamed on any number of things. The mages, Dubois' army, the siege of Val Royeaux—there were a wide variety of causes and possibilities.

Still, however, Elthina desired that they at least hold off until a proper defense of the city could be mounted. Lambert had to admit that she had a point where that was concerned; he had no alliance with Dubois, and had had none with Gaspard, meaning that if Justinia died and his own forces were forced to clash with the mages or Justinia's people, they would leave themselves open to attack.

Clearly, the solution was to find General Dubois and make peace with her. If he had her army, then any problems with the Chantry and Justinia would be solved. All that would be needed was to remove Justinia herself. 

Lambert stole out in the dead of night to locate the supposed general. A warrior of many years, she had staked out a tent on the battlefield to watch the siege. He was mildly impressed that she chose to be a participant in the fighting, rather than hide behind her rank, the way Celene and Gaspard did. 

He soldiers spotted him and drew their swords as he approached.

“I am here to make an alliance with the general,” Lambert said, drawing the hood of his cloak back.

The soldiers glanced at each other.

“Who is that I hear out there?” came a woman's voice from within the tent. Dubois came outside, and the soldiers stood back.

She was an older woman, easily Lambert's age or older, bearing a mane of shaggy steel-gray hair and deep lines carved around her mouth and eyes. She had long scars, like the clawmarks from an animal, that raked down one side of her face and bisected one eyebrow. Her armor, though old, was well-cared for. Over her back was an enormous broadsword.

She merely raised her eyebrows at him.

“Well,” she said. “Who is this?” 

“You are General Dubois.” he said. 

“I know who I am, fool, I asked your name.”

Lambert snorted. “Would you be so impolite to future allies?”

“Those who come to my tent in the dead of night? Yes. I would.”

They stared at each other until at last Lambert said “I am Lord Seeker Lambert.”

Her eyebrows threatened to retreat into her hairline. “Well, goodness, let me lay out the good china, shall I?” she laughed. “Come in, Lord Seeker. I was expecting you.”

He followed her into her tent. Inside was fairly bare, a stand of armor in one corner, a weapons rack on the opposite side. She took her sword off of her back and sat down on a nearby chair. She began to sharpen the blade, though it did not seem to need it.

“You were expecting me?” he asked, watching her sharpen her blade. 

“I was expecting one of you people to come to me,” she drawled, looking down at her sword instead of at him. “Why are you here, Lord Seeker?” 

“I have a proposition for you.”

She paused for a moment, then continued to sharpen her weapon. “What could you possibly offer me?” 

“The Divine is compromised. She must be replaced.”

She put her sword down. She got to her feet and began to pace, prowling the tent like a leopard, and he watched her closely. 

“Ah, deicide.” she said, her tone airy and light, belying her tense posture. “What a lovely way to spend an afternoon. Why should I care about the squabbles the Chantry gets up to? The way I hear it, you lot are halfway split already, what with the mages and all.” her lip twisted.

“I mean to stop the problems with the mages,” Lambert said. “Justinia is too soft on them. She does not understand the problem and refuses to do so. She will doom us all to demons, or the fate of Tevinter, if she is not removed.”

Dubois nodded. “And the only way you can remove her is death, et cetera, et cetera. What do you want from me?” she stopped pacing and turned to face him fully.

“Join with my cause. Support the Templars and the Seekers and when Justinia is killed, we can appoint a new Divine with little trouble.”

“What would I get out of it?”

“The support of the Chantry,” Lambert said, raising an eyebrow. “You cannot be laying siege to Val Royeaux if you did not have higher goals—and our support would mean a great deal to those goals.”

Dubois sighed and examined her hands. “Chantry aid would help a great deal in establishing myself as Empress,” she said. 

“Ah, and where that is concerned...you do not expect Celene or Gaspard to return and challenge you?” he looked her over. “Or perhaps you want them to, and relish the challenge?”

“We lost contact with Gaspard months ago,” General Dubois said with a disdainful sniff. “He went chasing Celene, leaving us with no leader. Such a fool, I thought, could surely never be Emperor. And such a cowardly Empress could by no means remain Empress. So I intervened.”

“I see.”

Dubois looked him dead on. “And the mages? What is your quarrel with them?”

“Surely you know how dangerous they are,” Lambert said, narrowing her eyes. “Kirkwall alone--”

“Oh, yes, yes, some idiot blew up a Chantry. Who in the world cares? Kirkwall's on fire every other week, you know that.” she sighed. “And don't give me that rot about demons and whatnot. A mage is about ten times more useful than a Templar on a battlefield.” she nodded towards the Val Royeaux walls. “The Spire's certainly shown us that. Why, if your bloody Circles didn't have such a tight leash on them, I'd go out recruiting every halfwit who can throw a bit of fire around. Demons?” she scoffed at him. “What does it matter as long as they're pointed in the right direction?”

Lambert blinked, honestly baffled, but quickly recovered. “I need not explain my reasoning to you,” he said. “Simply know that if left unchecked, the mages will become like those of Tevinter. It is simply a fact that all mages will want for more and more power, and will do anything to get it.”

Dubois picked at her nails. “Unlike yourself, who aims to kill Her Holiness?”

Lambert bristled, and Dubois looked at him, bushy eyebrows raised.

“Don't fool yourself, Lord Seeker,” she said, her expression dark and mirthful. “All of us here are sinners who want for power. You're no exception.”

“Do you think the mages would help you secure your seat as Empress?” Lambert demanded. “They would only be out for themselves.”

“True, true,” Dubois agreed. “Certainly true.” she tilted her head back and considered. “If we help you,” she said. “Will your new Divine back my rulership? Would she make me Empress?”

“If that is what is needed,” Lambert agreed without hesitation. 

“Hm,” Dubois tapped her lip, thinking. “That would certainly get the peasants on my side, wouldn't it?' she grinned. “The word of a Divine goes a very long way.”

“It would. The word of a mage would gain you nothing.”

Dubois considered for a moment. “Very well,” she said. “My forces are your forces. Now, what is it you wish us to do?”

“Pull back on actively attacking the city,” Lambert advised. “We will take care of it from within. Allow more resources to come in, and more of my Templars and Seekers will be there to take care of the Guard when the time comes.”

Dubois nodded. “So, when do you plan to kill the Divine?”

“Give us a week to prepare,” Lambert said. “I must ensure everything is in the correct order.”

“And when she is dead?”

“The new Divine will come, and will be appointed, and then you may take your place as Empress of Orlais.”

Dubois grinned, and her teeth flashed in the light. “Alright, Lord Seeker,” she said. “You have a deal.”

Dubois' forces pulled away from Val Royeaux, as she promised. Lambert sent word to Elthina, and began the preparations. It would be quite a simple thing to kill Justinia; what would not be so simple would be avoiding the retaliation of the Nightingale and her own forces. 

Lambert knew of how dangerous Leliana especially was. He needed to deal with her before he dealt with anyone else. 

Before he could, however, there came another stumbling block. More Templars were called to help Val Royeaux, but not all of them were loyal. 

One such Templar was a man named Ser Barris.

Ser Barris had something of a silver tongue and was not involved in any of the nastiness that surrounded Meredith and many of the other Templars loyal to the Seekers, but Lambert suspected he was also very loyal to the Divine.

Barris became a silent, everpresent, and very polite shadow, and it made the back of Lambert's neck itch. 

Meanwhile, Justinia met with her left and right hand. Their news was not good.

“The Lord Seeker still has his own machinations,” Leliana said.

Justinia pinched the bridge of her nose. “I thought as much,” she sighed. “What is he planning?” 

“Our fears were accurate—as far as we can tell, most of the Templar order as well as the Seekers are loyal to him, not to you.”

Justinia sighed. “And what do you believe he has planned?”

“I believe he plans to kill you.”

“Are you certain?” Cassandra leaned forward, her face white. “Are you absolutely certain? Perhaps--”

“You know better than that, Cassandra,” Justinia said. “No, this is merely the logical conclusion.” she closed her eyes. “He has made his feelings about mages and my decisions known.”

Cassandra leaned against a table and shook her head. “Leliana, are you sure?” Cassandra asked. “How do you know this is what Lambert planned?”

“General Dubois sent us a message early this morning,” Leliana said. “The Lord Seeker came to her several nights ago with a proposition. Ally with him, and support him in his plans, and he would support her takeover of the throne.”

Cassandra's eyes went wide. “And his plans included...?”

“The assassination of the Divine,” Leliana said, and her fists clenched. 

Cassandra went silent for a moment.

“Why did she tell us this?” Justinia asked. 

“If we agree to be her ally, and support her rise to the throne, she will protect us from Lambert,” Leliana explained. 

“I assume she had conditions.”

Leliana nodded and closed her eyes. “She would only agree if you would proclaim her Empress,” she said. “And if she got mage assistance as well.” 

“So we must gain the allegiance of the mages, to gain her allegiance,” Cassandra said. “And what if we do not?”

“Then she allies with Lambert, continues to attack the city, and will not stop until we are all dead. Lambert has promised that his new Divine will give her the divine right of leadership.” 

“We must reconvene the College,” Justinia decided immediately. “There is no other way to gain the allegiance of the mages.” she shook her head and sighed. “Dissolving it was a foolish decision.”

“We should first speak with Enchanter de Fer,” Cassandra said immediately. “She is the most loyal, apart from Enchanter Wynne.”

“And we don't know when Wynne will return,” Leliana said. “We might have to wait until she does in order to effectively gain an alliance.”

“I am sure Madame de Fer's support would go a long way in helping with that,” Justinia said. “Find her, and speak to her.”

“Ser Barris is here as well,” Leliana said. 

Barris was their contact within the Templars, and their primary means of knowing what happened within them, as Cassandra had been for the Seekers. 

“Has he said anything?” Cassandra asked.

Leliana shook her head. “No, but he would be useful in assuring the mages we mean them no harm.”

“An excellent point,” Justinia agreed.

“If we can get the college of Enchanters on our side, we will have aid against the Templars,” Leliana said. “Barris surely knows those who are sympathetic, but--

“Leliana, listen to yourself!” Cassandra exclaimed. “We do not need to fight against our own people! If we find a way to remove Lambert from the picture, surely--”

“They are not our own people anymore,” Leliana said, her voice cold. “They are Lambert's.”

“What about our own contacts among the Templars?” Cassandra demanded. “Ser Barris and those loyal to him--”

“He alone cannot save the Templar order. Your Holiness, this has gone almost out of our control. We need to gain the allegiance of the mages again, otherwise they are likely to reject us entirely and cleave the Chantry in three.”

“They are going to do that anyway,” Cassandra insisted.

“No, perhaps not,” Justinia said. “Enchanter de Fer was quite cooperative, and she holds no loyalty to Lambert. She has a great deal of sway in the College, and there is Wynne, of course...”

Cassandra sighed and sat down. “To see the Seekers come to this...” she clenched her fist. “Is there nothing more forthright we can do? Surely the Seekers and the Templars must know that Lambert is mad to go against the Divine.”

“After the destruction of the Kirkwall Chantry, many of them will see me as being too lenient with the mages,” Justinia said. “The sentiment only grows with time. I'd thought that dissolving the College might ease things—but it seems only to have made them worse.”

Cassandra and Leliana found Barris and spoke with him.

“Seeker Pentaghast, Sister Leliana,” Barris inclined his head.

Leliana smiled. 

“Ser Barris,” Cassandra said. “What have you learned?”

He shook his head. “The Lord Seeker is paranoid,” he said. “He has true counsel with very few, apart from Commander Meredith.”

“Has he spoken to you at all?”

“No. He does not trust me. What have you learned, Seeker?”

“The Lord Seeker's plans are worse than we anticipated,” Cassandra said. “He plans to kill the Divine.”

Barris let out a breath. “Are you sure?” he said.

“He tried to ally with General Dubois behind our backs,” Leliana explained. “And the terms of the alliance would be that she would aid him, in exchange for her becoming the new Empress of Orlais.”

“What do we do?” Barris asked. “I hope you contacted Dubois--”

“We did,” leliana said. “For her to support us instead of Lambert, we need the allegiance of the mages. Dubois sees no other benefit.”

“That will be difficult,” Barris said.

“It will.”

“How do you plan on doing it?”

“Do you know Madame de Fer, of Montsimmard?”

“I know of her. Why?”

“If you meet with her, you might go a great way towards repairing things between mages and Templars,” Leliana explained.


	3. More Substance In Our Enmities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a real soft spot for pharamond

Leliana arranged the meeting, and Cassandra, Leliana, Barris and Vivienne all met together.

“Madame de Fer, this is Ser Barris,” Cassandra gestured to him. “Barris, this is Madame Vivienne de Fer.”

“A pleasure, my dear,” Vivienne said with a smile.

“Good to meet you, Madame de Fer,” Barris said. 

“Now, _why_ did you wish to meet with me?” Vivienne asked. 

"We need your help,” Cassandra said.

“You are already receiving my aid.” Vivienne raised her eyebrows. 

“We suspect that there is...no, there is a poisonous element within the Chantry itself,” Cassandra said in a hushed voice.

Vivienne frowned and inclined her head. “I feared this might happen.”

Leliana's gaze was sharp. “Why?” 

“Why would the Divine order the College dissolved, if she is apparently sympathetic to the Circles?” Vivienne asked. “Her position clashed with her actions. And with the Blight, with the various dreams of scryers and dreamwalkers--”

“Dreams?” Leliana interjected.

Vivienne nodded. “None of Montsimmard are well-versed in dreamwalking,” she said, tilting her head up. “Far too dangerous. But even we have heard...unusual things from the spirits and demons who attempt to speak to us.”

“Unusual things?” Barris said. “What do you mean?”

“Ill omens,” Vivienne said. “Demons saying the same things, over and over. A repeated pattern.”

“You put stock in omens, Enchanter?” Cassandra asked, her expression calculating.

“Hardly.” Vivienne gave a disdainful little sniff. “All that is in dreams, however, is symbolic, and influenced by the waking world in some way. If the spirits all speak one name, and one that is associated with such bad tidings, it cannot mean anything good.”

“One name? What name?”

“It is...rather difficult to describe without it sounding completely asinine, my dear.”

“Try, Madame,” Cassandra was rapidly losing patience.

Vivienne looked at her. “There is a white wolf,” she said. “Seen over and over. And the spirits talk about it, and darkness, and disease.”

“And you connected this to the problems within the Chantry?” Barris asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Not precisely. I suspected that such talk of demons and bad omens, if it was a problem across multiple Circles, would make the Seekers and the Templars more paranoid. The Templars of Montsimmard are well-behaved, but even they have grown more nervous. The business with the Blight and that problem with Enchanter Surana was only the start of it—they grow so paranoid of magic that they ignore the real threats.”

“And those are?” Cassandra asked. 

“Take the Lord Seeker's own example. He was willing to let Gaspard's army flatten Val Royeaux because he did not want mages protecting it.”

“So if we told you that the Lord Seeker plans to kill the Divine, this would not come as a shock to you?” Leliana asked.

Vivienne froze. She raised her eyebrows. “You are certain of this?”

“He attempted to ally with General Dubois. He wanted her to help him kill the Divine.”

“I see.” Vivienne was quiet for a moment, thinking. “This Dubois—have you contacted her? She cannot be allowed to assist the Lord Seeker in this endeavor.”

“We have,” Leliana said, and explained what they planned to do. Vivienne pursed her lips.

“You will have no chance of any alliance until the College reconvenes,” Vivienne said. “As it stands now--”

“If we reconvene the College, it's likely Lambert will know what we know and change his plans,” Cassandra said. 

“Exactly. And of course, my Circle will lend its aid, but I cannot say the same for the others.” she shook her head. “The Lord Seeker and his Templars have done a great deal to destroy the trust between mages and Templars. And what they have not done, Kirkwall certainly did.”

“I am sure it will be possible to get the mages on our side should we explain the stakes,” Ser Barris said. “The mages are reasonable people--”

“My dear, if you are not a mage, you do not know mages as mages do,” Vivienne said with a sigh. “No, this requires a great deal of care and effort, and we need to be cautious. Have you been able to meet with Dubois in person yet? Perhaps that might help.”

“Not yet,” Leliana said. 

“What do you suggest we do to secure a mage alliance?” Cassandra asked.

Vivienne considered, tapping one elegant nail against her cheek. “One strength of the Circles, and one weakness, is that they are all unique in their ways. They are all different. I could not tell you what will win over all mages because there is no one way to do so. At best, we could get the Grand Enchanter to ally, which would likely sway many of the others, but it is just as likely any military alliance would be rejected by those of us who are not warriors.” she shook her head. “No, you must find a way to reconvene the College, or else there will be no alliance.”

Before Lambert could do anything, Wynne and her entourage returned to the city, with a new companion in tow. Vivienne saw their approach and greeted them at the Sun Gate before Lambert or any of his people could do so.

“Enchanter Wynne, my dear,” Vivienne smiled warmly. “What a pleasant surprise. We hadn't been expecting you for some time.”

“Madame de Fer,” Wynne gave a smile. “Might I introduce Adrian and Rhys, from the White Spire, and Pharamond, of Adamant?” Wynne gestured to the two of them. 

Pharamond, Adrian, and Rhys stared openly at Vivienne. None of them had ever met her before. 

Vivienne looked over their heads, gave a tiny tutting sound, and waved a hand. The Veil rippled, and several flares shot up nearer the battlements, indicating hexes being laid.

“What are you doing?” Rhys wanted to know.

Vivienne gave a tinkling laugh. “I am here to help protect the city, of course, my dear,” she said. “I need to renew my spells every so often, before they lose effectiveness.”

“Why _you_?” Adrian asked.

“Because I am the one most suited,” Vivienne said. “I came to appeal to the Divine, and found this rather unpleasant affair occurring right outside the walls. So I intervened.”

Adrian stared at her. “They let you do that?”

“My dear, there are precious few people protecting this city besides mages,” Vivienne said. 

Evangeline looked at her sharply. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that when Gaspard's forces began attacking the city, there were very few warriors here to protect it,” Vivienne explained. “The Templars and the city Guard could only do so much, and her Majesty's army is split in two besides. We mages had to do something.” she smiled, and Evangeline seemed surprised. 

“That doesn't match with what I know of the mages,” Evangeline said, and Adrian glared at her.

“Why, darling, all mages are different,” Vivienne said. “Simply because some are fools does not mean we all are.” 

“I suppose,” Evangeline said, blinking.

“We need to see the Divine as soon as possible,” Adrian cut in.

“Of course, my dear,” Vivienne said. “I am told that you came here on a matter of some importance.”

Adrian nodded. 

“We must see the Lord Seeker,” Evangeline said. 

“If you must report to the Lord Seeker, you may do that, my dear,' vivienne said. “But if those you are charged with protecting have information that needs to go to the Divine, they must go to her first.”

“But—Madame de Fer, didn't the Lord Seeker say--” one of the guards started, but Vivienne gave him a look, and he quieted.

“What did he say?” Evangeline asked. 

“The Lord Seeker and Her Holiness are having a disagreement over the best ways to handle the situation,” Vivienne said. “The best decision would to be to go to the highest authority, that is, the Divine. So that is what you will do.” her tone brooked no argument.

Evangeline bristled at being addressed in such a way, and opened her mouth to protest, but Vivienne gave her a similar look to the one she had given the guard, and she immediately went quiet.

Adrian stared at Vivienne, then Evangeline, and then stared at Vivienne again, her expression awestruck. She elbowed Rhys, who ignored her. 

“Go on,” Vivienne said, gesturing them inside. “Someone will meet you. I must stay here to guard the gates.” 

Inside the city, Seeker Pentaghast came to find them.

“The guard let us know you'd arrived—good,” she said. She looked at Pharamond, who quaked at her scrutiny. “This is the man you were sent to rescue?”

Wynne nodded. “This is Pharamond.”

“Good. Most Holy will want to see him.”

“The Lord Seeker--” Evangeline began.

“Will be at the meeting as well,” Cassandra cut her off. “Come, this way.”

Evangeline hurried to catch up with Cassandra. “Pentaghast, what is going on?” she hissed. “That rabble outside the city—Enchanter de Fer at the gates--!”

“We were laid siege by General—by Duke Gaspard's forces,” Cassandra said, heaving a sigh. “The mages have been able to protect us, and Pharamond's arrival may prove very fortunate.” she shook her head. “Things are becoming...unstable.”

Evangeline slowed and fell back into step with Rhys and Adrian.

“I think there's something wrong,” she murmured.

“What, aside from everything we can already see?” Adrian exclaimed.

Evangeline nodded. “Seeker Pentaghast is her Holiness' left hand,” she said. “And the Divine wanting to see us before anyone else...?”

“Is the Seeker worried?” Rhys asked.

Evangeline looked back at Cassandra and bit her lip. “I'm not sure,” she said. “She might be. It's a little hard to tell with her.”

“I am sure it will be fine,” Wynne said, implacable as always. 

“How can she not be worried?” Pharamond piped up. “I'd be worried. Oh, I can't _stand_ crowds!” 

Evangeline bit her lip. 

“We're all going to see Most Holy?” Adrian asked. 

“I suppose we must be,” Rhys said.

“Yes,” Cassandra appeared to have overheard them. “This is important enough that Her Holiness must see you all.”

The Grand Cathedral was locked tightly, and more people guarded the entrance. Two mages, one of the city guard, and a Templar who nodded at Cassandra as they passed. Inside, the Grand Cathedral was dark, until they came to the chamber where they met the Most Holy. 

The meeting was small, the chamber almost empty. The Divine sat upon the Sunburst throne, her expression drawn and serious. A redheaded woman stood at her right side, and to the right of her was the Lord Seeker. 

Somehow, Enchanter de Fer had gotten there ahead of them, and stood on the Lord Seeker's other side. It looked almost as if the redhead and Enchanter de Fer were flanking him. Cassandra went to stand on the Divine's left, one hand on the hilt of her sword.

Lambert glared at Evangeline, who looked away.

Rhys suspected Cole was somewhere in the shadows, but he hoped he wouldn't be there long. He suspected that Enchanter de Fer would notice and, from what he knew of her, she wouldn't take kindly to him being there.

“Let us be quick,” the Divine wasted no time. “The state of the city means we have no more time to spare. “Several years ago I asked someone to investigate the Rite of Tranquility for me. I felt that it might be worthwhile to investigate if we could remove a mage's power without crippling their mind as well. I understand that you have been somewhat successful in this endeavor,” she nodded at Pharamond. 

“ _Why_?” Lambert demanded. “Why would you do this? The Rite--”

The Divine cut him off, her tone cold. “I do not have to answer to you, Lambert.”

Rhys and Adrian glanced at each other, shocked. Pharamond bit his lower lip, eyes riveted on Lambert's furious expression. The tension in the room was so heavy it felt hard to breathe. 

“Wynne, we received your report,” the Divine said. “It was fairly detailed, but I still have some questions.”

“Of course, Most Holy.” Wynne stepped forward to speak.

“What happened to the people of Adamant?”

Wynne hesitated. “They are dead.” she whispered at last.

“What?” Lambert demanded.

“They are dead,” she repeated, louder this time.

The Divine's shoulders slumped, and she closed her eyes for a moment. “Maker guide them,” she murmured. She opened her eyes again. “How?” 

“The Veil was already thin,” Wynne explained. “Pharamond's experiments weakened it further.” 

At that, Leliana and Enchanter de Fer shared an inscrutable look. 

“Because of the weakening, demons and spirits began to push through at will--”

“Some were pulled through,” Pharamond interjected suddenly, his voice tight with emotion. “It was an accident—some were just curious—but the Veil--”

“So the spirits possessed people, and the Veil weakened further, and they began to tear each other apart,” Lambert growled.

“You don't understand!” Pharamond burst out “You didn't hear—it's not their fault they were like that, it's _ours_!”

“Pharamond,” Wynne said soothingly, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

“Peace,” Justinia raised a hand. “I simply need to know—was there promise to the experiment? Is it an accident that the Rite was reversed in this case, or could it be replicated again?”

“Of course it could,” Pharamond said in a rush, and everyone stared at him. “I mean—I—I didn't mean to be possessed,” he said. “But—you—Your Holiness--” he seemed to choke on his words, stumbling over himself in frustration. He took a deep breath. “Your Holiness, with the things the spirits have said—to unmake a Tranquil, all anyone ever had to do was ask.”

“What are you talking about?” Lambert demanded. 

“Spirits and demons are reflections of us,” Pharamond said. “And we're connected to them—for Andraste's sake, the Fade is part of our dreams! They want to be closer to us—not just to possess us, but to try and help us, to enrich us! All a Tranquil has to do to stop being Tranquil is to connect with a spirit. That's all.” he looked straight at Lambert. “The demons don't come into play until we invent them.”

Lambert stepped forward, livid, and Pharamond flinched again. 

Justinia tilted her head to one side, examining Pharamond. “Is it possible to remove a mage's magic without also damaging their mind?” she asked.

Pharamond looked away. “No,” he said, more quietly now. “No, it isn't.”

“Then this research was a failure,” Lambert snapped. “Pointless. Your Holiness, I fail to see what we are all doing here.”

“Why, Lambert, I thought you wished to be informed of the goings-on,” Justinia said, her tone edged in ice. 

“This is pointless,” Lambert insisted. “Even now, there are rumors in the White Spire of making all Tranquil mages again!”

“And so you should!” Adrian exclaimed suddenly, moving forward, despite Rhys putting a hand on her arm. “They should never have been mutilated in the first place.”

“My dear, what would you have us do instead?” Enchanter de Fer spoke up for the first time. “Execute them?”

“Yes!” Adrian shouted. “Do you think it's kinder to turn us into automatons, into your servants?” 

“I believe it is kinder to have any life than none at all,” Vivienne's voice was as cold as the moon. “Once someone is dead, they are gone forever. If they are alive, something can be done.” 

“Ripping out everything that makes us a person is the same thing!”

“No. It is not.” 

“Regardless,” Lambert said through gritted teeth. “This is pointless. By the elf's own admission, this research cannot be indulged further.” 

Justinia pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. 

“Your Holiness, pardon me, but the decision is out of your hands,” 

Everyone turned to stare at Wynne.

She smiled in a very calm and placid way as she said “You see, I have already sent the information on to the White Spire.”

The Divine was quiet for a long moment, her staring match with Wynne going on for an uncomfortably long time.

“Very well,” she said at last. “If this information cannot be hidden, then we must reconvene the College.”

“Your Holiness--!” Lambert exclaimed.

“If we don't do this now, there will be more rumors, more instability,” Justinia informed him. “The mages are our charges, as much as anyone else, and they must have the right to say what happens to them. Cassandra—” she looked to Seeker Pentaghast, who stepped forward. “See to the arrangements. The Conclave shall be held here, in the Grand Cathedral, instead of in Cumberland.”

“Yes, Most Holy,” Cassandra said. 

“Many of the enchanters have already arrived,” Vivienne said. “Would you have me locate them--?”

"Yes, thank you, Enchanter,” Justinia said. 

“Fine—if we are truly to reconvene the College, it will be allowed on one condition,” Lambert looked at Pharamond. “That mage be made Tranquil again.”

Adrian and Rhys both cried out in protest, and Pharamond let out a heartbroken wail. He sunk to his knees and Wynne put a hand on his shoulder.

“Please, Your Eminence, you can't--!” Wynne said. 

“ _Murderer_!” Adrian shouted at Lambert. 

Lambert sneered. 

“Enough!” the Divine got to her feet, and her voice was enough to get everyone to immediately quiet down. She glared at Lambert. “Lord Seeker, do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do,” she snapped. “The last I looked, I was Divine here, and not you. In any case, we hardly have the lyrium to spare for the Templars,” she said. “We certainly don't have enough for the rite of Tranquility. In addition to this, _he already knows how to undo the Rite_ ,” she said, an implied 'you idiot' on the end of her sentence. “If someone else told him to, he would perform whatever was needed to undo it again. It would serve no purpose.” 

“No purpose?” Lambert spluttered. “He is a clear candidate for possession--!” 

“My dear Lord Seeker, if you could point us to a surplus of lyrium supplies, I would be quite happy to locate Templars willing to perform the Rite,” Vivienne said. “Unfortunately, we have none. If I were to deprive other Templars of their lyrium, I would be weakening the city's defenses. Unless that is your aim, I suggest you leave Pharamond be.”

“It will damage the city if he is possessed by a demon!” Lambert snarled, and Pharamond flinched. 

“I will protect him,” Evangeline spoke up suddenly. “He is one of my charges. I will make sure he does not become possessed.”

Lambert glared at her, but she didn't look away this time. “Why not simply execute him?” he demanded of the Divine.

“I do not want to execute those who have done no wrong,” Justinia said. “Ser Evangeline has declared herself to be his protector. So she will protect him.”

“Ser Evangeline has no right to decide that,” Lambert said. “She has acted independently and--”

“Do you mean to question my orders another time, Lambert?” Justinia's tone was utterly icy, and Wynne looked a bit shocked. “You are testing my patience.”

They stood, watching each other, for a moment. 

“As you wish, Most Holy,” Lambert growled.

“The Conclave will convene in a week's time,” Justinia said. “Many Enchanters are here already, and the attacks on the city mean we have no time to spare.” she looked at Wynne and the others. “A week's time,” she repeated. “I would urge you to be there.”

“Yes, Your Holiness,” Wynne inclined her head, and the others did the same. Justinia dismissed them. 

“What do we do now?” Adrian asked. They were collecting themselves in a small antechamber a little ways away from the meeting room. 

“The College reconvenes, of course,” Wynne said. “The Grand Enchanter and the others will be able to come together again.”

“What a delightful display, darling,” they all turned to see Vivienne striding towards them. “A fascinatingly bloodless way to reconvene the College. Commendable.”

“Madame de Fer,” Wynne smiled. “How nice to see you again.”

“A pleasure, my dears,” Vivienne said, and her own answering smile was as sharp as a razors' edge. Adrian and Rhys glanced at each other out of the corners of their eyes. “And what do you think to accomplish with this meeting?” she asked Wynne.

“With luck, we can come to an accord with the Chantry,” Wynne said. 

Vivienne's face fell just a bit. “My dear, I am unsure how likely that is, with the Empress still missing,” she said. “Part of the reason we are in this mess to begin with is because of her absence.”

“Nothing will be accomplished by the College being disbanded and our feelings being made to fester,” Wynne argued.

“True enough, in a sense,” Vivienne said. “Of course, one other problem is the forces of Gaspard's being on the doorstep.”

Wynne laughed at that. “I'm that you've done quite a good job at keeping them away yourself!”

Vivienne gave her own tinkling laugh. “Of course, my dear! I cannot let a mob of unruly mercenaries despoil our fair city, can I?” she took a breath. “Of course...there are some things you must be aware of.”

“What is it?” 

“Seeker Cassandra or Sister Leliana will most likely want to meet with you before the Conclave to discuss it,” Vivienne said, her expression serious. 

"What's going on?” Adrian demanded. 

“Something very...untoward.” Vivienne's expression was sour. “In any case, I should not be speaking of it at the moment. I urge that you prepare yourselves for the Conclave.”

“Thank you, Vivienne.” Wynne said.

“Of course.” Vivienne turned to leave, but then looked at Evangeline. “Oh, and Ser Evangeline—it is quite magnanimous of you to devote yourself to protecting Pharamond,” she smiled at Evangeline, and her smile seemed genuine. “Pharamond, my dear, if you need assistance with magical control, I am something of an expert. I would hardly want anything to happen to you, or the people around you.”

Then she left.

“That woman is terrifying,” Rhys said. 

“That is certainly her reputation,” Wynne agreed. 

Adrian rounded on Evangeline. “Why did you say you were going to protect Pharamond?” she demanded. “You were going to kill him back in Adamant!” 

“I thought--” she looked at Pharamond, then looked away. She sighed. “I didn't think. I just—I didn't think it would be right.” she glanced at Rhys out of the corner of her eye. 

“Not that I'm ungrateful,” Pharamond said. “But...what made you change your mind?” 

“You...” Evangeline shook her head. “Did you see the way Most Holy spoke to the Lord Seeker?” she asked.

“She was angry.”

“She was. My loyalty is to her, above all else. And if she was angry with him then maybe...maybe his decisions aren't the ones I should be listening to.” again, she glanced at Rhys. “And hearing what you've all said about it...I...” she closed her eyes. “I said that you mages are protected, sheltered in your Circles,” she said.

Adrian scowled.

“But Enchanter de Fer was at the gates, defending the city—and she said so many other mages were helping as well, I--”

“Realized you were being an idiot?” Adrian raised her eyebrow.

“Adrian!” Rhys hissed. 

Evangeline fell silent.

“Well,” Pharamond said at length. “ _I'm_ happy, anyway.”

Later, Wynne was by herself, and Vivienne came to see her.

“Wynne.”

“Vivienne,” Wynne smiled. “How nice to see you. What is it?”

“There are--” Vivienne sighed. “There are many things in motion, my dear, and I feel we must be prepared.”

“Prepared for what?” Wynne narrowed her eyes. “What is the matter?”

“When the other Enchanters arrive, there will be those who, when they hear of what is happening, will demand we secede,” 

“Of course. Fiona and the others have made their feelings quite clear.”

Vivienne shook her head. “In this case, they will have far more evidence than simple complaints.” 

Wynne widened her eyes. “Why?”

Vivienne closed her eyes, and for a moment looked terribly exhausted. “Wynne, you cannot have ignored the words of spirits and demons as of late,”

“Of course not. But I thought that you would never have--”

“And I would not have, except for how they are all speaking the same thing, over and over.” 

“The wolf.”

“Yes. The wolf. And the Elder One.”

Wynne sighed. “And you believe these might be the push the College needs to secede?”

“My dear, you are aware of how many civilians number among us—most of them simply want to be left alone, and the Templars and whatever is happening in the Fade will make them more likely simply to want to isolate themselves.”

Wynne's expression grew grim. “There is something the matter with the Templars, then.”

“Yes,” Vivienne frowned slightly. “I had hoped that the tensions within the Chantry would have resolved themselves—we need unity now more than ever. But...”

“It has only become worse?”

“Worse than you know,” Vivienne said. “I should not tell you everything. Even now, some secrets must yet be kept.”

“Oh, dear,” Wynne murmured. 

“Exactly. When Her Holiness decides to divulge the information she has given me, then you might know, but until then...”

“I understand. I...do not like to hear this, Vivienne.”

“Neither would I, were I in your place. No matter how one looks at this situation, it is a poor one on all sides.”

“What do you plan to do?'

“I plan to attend the Conclave and urge for allegiance with Her Holiness,” she said. 

“Allegiance?” Wynne frowned. “Why? We are already bound to her--”

“No, we are particularly beholden to the Templars. I believe our ties to the Chantry have become...muddied over time,” Vivienne said. “The Templars have become afraid of magic, rather than those who protect and advise in its use. Her Holiness understands these things better than they do.”

Wynne tilted her head back and regarded Vivienne with a curious gaze. “I see,” she said. “And what do you wish me to do?”

“Stand against those who would urge secession,” Vivienne said. “We cannot afford it. With the army marching upon Val Royeaux and things threatening to completely fall apart, we cannot be divided.”

“I agree,” Wynne said with a nod. “Fiona may not like it, but I agree.”

“It is fortunate that Pharamond yet lives, and is still not Tranquil,” Vivienne added. “If he had been made Tranquil, I suspect that those who wished to secede would be given a great deal more cause to do so, in their minds.”

Wynne nodded. “Absolutely,” she said. “That is one of the more significant reasons behind the idea of secession, I believe.” 

Vivienne gave a tiny, derisive smirk. “Yes. One of the reasons.”

Cole had not made an appearance for several days, and was beginning to fade somewhat from Rhys' memories. Evangeline had taken to writing his description down, and could only hope that he would be able to look after himself. 

Evangeline was constantly expecting the Lord Seeker, but he appeared to be ignoring her. She did not know whether to be relieved or worried. All she had to do at the moment was watch Pharamond. Apparently her Holiness had taken Evangeline's promise to protect the former Tranquil to heart, and they had both been assigned a room in the Grand Cathedral to share. 

The more she watched Pharamond, the more she grew ashamed of herself for even thinking of raising a sword to him. Though they had traveled on the road together, she had not had much time with him. 

He proved to be a gentle man, exuberant and passionate, and with outbursts of laughter or sobbing that were perhaps inappropriate or unwarranted, but he was by no means a danger. He hardly appeared to know any battle magic at all, and simply delighted in learning things. He shuddered at the thought of battle, and was constantly worried for the safety of those who went into it. 

Right now, Evangeline watched Pharamond thumb through a book. Occasionally he murmured to himself or made a note, marking a page. 

“If you think too hard about demons, they'll come, you know,” Pharamond told her, not looking up. Occasionally he did this, appearing to notice her eyes on him without looking at her. 

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” Pharamond nodded and finally looked up. “The Fade reflects the thoughts and minds of the living. Therefore, if you think about demons, demons will come.”

Evangeline snorted. “You have told me this theory of yours before. I don't believe it.”

Pharamond laughed. “Oh, come now, are you really not going to believe someone who's made a study of it?” he waved a hand. “Why do you think they made me Tranquil in the first place?”

They both froze, and Pharamond seemed to realize he'd said something uncomfortable. He fell silent.

“Why did they?” Evangeline asked at length. 

Pharamond shrugged, not looking at her. “I was always an odd child,” he said, avoiding her eyes. “Didn't look at teachers, didn't listen, laughed at the wrong things...listened to spirits.”

“Oh.” that must have been it, then. Odd behavior alone didn't merit a Rite. Or it wasn't supposed to, anyway. “You shouldn't have done that.”

“There's nothing wrong with most spirits,” Pharamond insisted. “The way they are is the way we made them.”

“How can you say that? After seeing what happened at Adamant?” Evangeline demanded, staring at him. 

He flinched, and she sighed. 

“Pharamond,” she said, more gently. “Please...tell me why you think that. If that were so, why would we have imagined demons? I hardly want to run into a demon.”

“Ah, but everyone has fears, don't they?” Pharamond pointed out. “Whether you want to or not. And see, in the Fade, that's reflected. Everyone gets angry, sad, fearful—all those bad things that you might not want to feel, but you do.”

“And...that makes demons?” Evangeline raised her eyebrows. 

Pharamond nodded. “Exactly. A negative emotion will create a negative spirit. I think...somewhere along the way, we became frightened of these things we created by accident. And when we became frightened of them, they became stronger and more twisted, and then it happened again and again—and now we have what we have now.”

Evangeline sighed and leaned her head back on the wall. “If good thoughts were all that were needed to stop demons, wouldn't they be stopped now?”

“How easy is it for you to stop being angry at someone you hate?” Pharamond asked her. “Say...a murderer. Could you stop being angry at them so easily? It's much easier to hate than it is to forgive. Or, could you be happy if you were hungry and cold? Maybe that's part of the idea behind the Circles.”

“I don't know,” Evangeline said. “I would think that someone would've thought of it before now.”

Pharamond laughed, his voice echoing loudly in the small room. “Oh, Ser Evangeline, let me tell you, it's hard enough for people to figure their own minds out—how are we supposed to work out the minds of spirits?”

Evangeline gave a slight smile. “I suppose,” she said. “That is entirely possible.”

“If we stopped being afraid, this would all stop,” he said. “So much of the terrible things in the world are caused by fear.”

“How do you know this?” Evangeline asked. 

“Oh, being a Tranquil, you're in a unique position to examine the emotions of others,” Pharamond explained, his expression more downcast now. “And what I saw was that a lot of people were afraid, and when they were afraid, then they became angry. That's why so many young mages are hurt by peasants or their families—people are afraid of magic.”

“With good reason,” Evangeline muttered.

“I don't think so,” Pharamond said. 

“No? What about a young mage who sets a house on fire by accident, or summons a demon? Aren't they worthy of being afraid of?”

Pharamond shrugged. “I don't know. I just don't think you can help anything by making people afraid of their own children.” at this, he gave her a quick glare, then looked out the window. “So many people get on just fine,” he said. “The Dalish, the Avvar, the Chasind—they do just fine with their mages.”

That was blatantly wrong, Evangeline knew that for certain. “The Dalish cast their mages out.”

Pharamond laughed. “Oh, Evangeline, you best not say that to one of them,” he said. “At Adamant, a Dalish woman came through one time. She'd gotten separated from her Clan in a storm, and the Lord Mayor let her stay for a little bit while she searched for them. More fool I, I asked her about that. She hit me so hard it made my teeth rattle.”

Evangeline gaped at him, shocked. “Why?”

“Well...” at that he was abashed again. “I think I frightened her, being Tranquil, and on top of that offended her with the question. She shouted quite a bit about how magic was a gift from the Creators, and how dare I accuse her people of abandoning their children, and quite a lot in Dalish that I didn't really understand.”

“Oh,” Evangeline raised her eyebrows. “I suppose I'll remember that for the future.”

“You really should,” Pharamond nodded sagely. “Did you truly not know that?”

“No. The Circles have many Dalish come to them.”

Pharamond knitted his brows together. “Did you never serve in a Circle?”

“Not retrieving apostates, no. Only guarding.”

“Oh. You see, the Dalish woman—Zalis was her name—told me that Templars attacked their Clans, and took mage children away. That idea that the Dalish abandoned them—well I don't know where it came from. Templars who didn't want to admit to kidnapping children, Dalish who just wanted Templars to leave them alone...whatever it is, it isn't true.”

“Templars don't kidnap children,” Evangeline said.

“Evangeline, you should know better than that,” Pharamond informed her. “Many children came to the Circle afraid, terrified because as far as they knew, Templars had stolen them away from their families. Did you truly never see that?”

“I...” Evangeline trailed off. “I...” the sound of someone crying could easily be heard in any of the Circles she had been at. Children, babies, adults. She had...always tuned it out. She thought it was just...dramatics. 

He just watched her. 

“The Circles aren't...” her own voice was weak. “They aren't...like that.”

“Ser Evangeline.”

She flinched at his tone. “It's for your own safety,” she said. “Mages cannot be free. They will...they will hurt people.”

“Is that really true?” Pharamond said. “Or, because you are afraid of them, and you hurt them, they only want to stop themselves from being hurt?” 

Evangeline was silent. 

Pharamond opened his book again. “You hurt them, they hurt you, and you hurt them back,” he said. “It won't stop until one of you stops being afraid.”

“I am not afraid.”

“You can't fool someone who has spent decades watching scared people and not being one himself, Evangeline,” Pharamond said. 

“Enough,” she decided. “Why don't we speak of something else?”

He shrugged. “Alright. Do you know about the different kinds of plants that grow near Val Royeaux?” he asked eagerly. He flipped his book around to show her that he had been reading a botanical guide. “I've never seen them before! Have you?”

She managed a weak smile and leaned closer, to see which ones he meant.


	4. Than in our love; O honey-bees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> looks like on this side of things we've got even more problems

Instead of being relocated to a cell in the Spire, Rhys was restricted to a pleasant and airy room of the Grand Cathedral. Well, he was sure it was _meant_ to be pleasant and airy, but the siege had forced them to shutter the windows, and now it was as dark as any Circle cell. He got the rather uncomfortable feeling that he actually was being confined to his rooms to protect him. The look on the Lord Seeker's face still haunted him, and he knew that he had not forgotten his suspicions of Rhys. 

It had been several days and Cole had not reappeared once, at least, not that Rhys could remember. He hoped nothing had happened to him. He was fairly sure that if the Lord Seeker or another Templar killed him, Rhys would hear about it, but he couldn't be positive.

Pharamond and Evangeline were likewise confined to their own rooms. Rhys hadn't had a chance to speak with Evangeline about her choice to protect Pharamond, and had not so much as seen her for a week. 

Wynne and Adrian had the run of the Cathedral, but could not leave it. Adrian complained very loudly about this to Rhys, about how she was as good in a fight as anyone, but the Divine insisted on making her stay.

Both Wynne and Adrian tried to visit Rhys at least once a day. Wynne brought him news of the siege, and what she could tell him of the situations with the mages, and Adrian told him the goings-on inside the Cathedral that she probably shouldn't know about.

Adrian was restless, excited. More than once she had spoken of Enchanter de Fer with no small amount of admiration—if Rhys didn't know any better, he would swear she was getting an adolescent crush on the woman. 

Well, apart from the loyalty to the Circle, the Enchanter was certainly Adrian's type. 

A knock sounded on the door, interrupting his thoughts. 

“I'm here,” he called, and the door opened to reveal Wynne.

“I didn't think you would be anywhere else,” she said with a wan smile. She came bearing bread and cheese, which she set on the small table next to Rhys' bed, and sat down on the chair across from him. 

He took a piece of bread and ate, but wasn't hungry. His mouth was dry from nerves.

“Do you have any more news?” he asked her.

“The army of the Marquis is marching.”

“Under whose banner? The Empress' or...?”

Wynne sighed and rubbed her temples. “Leliana said the Marquis would have supported the Empress,” she said. “But the Empress is still missing. So it seems he might just be supporting himself.”

“Oh,” Rhys closed his eyes. 

“Leliana believes most of the Empress' army will be usurped into Dubois' if she doesn't return soon,” Wynne said. 

Rhys was silent.

“Leliana also told me that there is some good news,” Wynne added, her face brightening just the slightest bit, but Rhys got the impression that was more for his benefit than it actually being good news. “The Empress yet lives, according to her sources. She simply isn't in Orlais.” Wynne sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I don't know the good it will do, either way.”

He sat up, brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“This woman is the one who burned down one of her own cities to quell a rebellion,” Wynne said, her expression pensive. “She's as bloodthirsty as the rest, when one comes down to it.”

Rhys blinked, surprised. “You're cynical.”

“No, lad. I am merely old. I have known good rulers in my time, and Celene...” Wynne shook her head. Her brow was knitted in worry, and he could practically see her going over the problem in her head.

“Will the rest of the Circle be called upon to fight?” he clenched his hands at the thought. “Besides the Spire, I mean?”

“That depends on what is decided at the Conclave,” Wynne said.

“What do you mean?” Rhys asked, raising his eyebrows. “We're just there to discuss Pharamond's research...aren't we? Not the siege?”

“Rhys...” Wynne looked away. “You cannot have come this far and believe that that is the only reason. If the Grand Enchanter is coming...she will not leave until she's drawn blood.”

Rhys stared at her.

“Figuratively, Rhys.”

“You sounded so serious...” Rhys tried a pale laugh. 

“I have seen her fight often enough. No, if the Divine called her here, it is only in dire need. The time for reform or moderation is over.” she sighed again, and Rhys marveled at how tired she sounded.

“That's not like you.”

“The times have changed, Rhys.” she looked at him. “What have you heard, in your dreams?”

He froze. She must have recognized his expression, because she nodded.

“I know. This is not the time for division, but we might not be able to stop it. Things are happening much too quickly. I--” she stopped, and started again. “I have heard terrible things in my dreams.”

“Me too,” Rhys murmured. Him, and Cole, and Evangeline, and Adrian, and anyone who had ever been to the Fade.

The white wolf with red eyes. 

He remembered its image. It had done nothing—said nothing—hardly seemed to notice him and Cole and Evangeline. But he remembered it. It had stood on a hill, far away from the scene of the nightmare, and watched. 

Rhys had looked at it, met its eyes, and knew--

Something terrible was coming.

“We can't—you won't let _that_ influence you decisions, will you?” He asked.

“I will try not to,” Wynne said. “And I do not want this to divide us. You speak of freedom, but it would only end in suffering. I do not want more war.”

“Wynne, I don't...it isn't like that.” 

“No? Then what is it like?”

“It's...” Rhys sighed. “I don't want to argue about it.”

They both fell silent for a moment, and the silence was stifling. Wynne seemed somehow disappointed, but he had no idea what he'd said wrong.

“You don't need to keep coming to me,” Rhys said. “I told you--”

“And why not?” Wynne wanted to know. “Why should a mother not want to see her son?”

“You never wanted to before.”

“Rhys.” she looked at him, her gaze unfathomably sad. “You know better.”

Rhys did know better, and he looked away. They had taken him away from her many times before. He had never been raised by his mother; just the teachers in the Circle. His memories of her were slapdash and few and far between; white hair and a soft laugh, a healing hand in a fever, a deep, implacable calmness...

“You never fought,” he told her. “You say the Circle is such a good thing, but you never even cared when it drove your son away. They did it on purpose.” he felt...childish, talking about it.

“I know,” Wynne said quietly. “I know.”

“Wynne...” he couldn't look at her. “This isn't fair.” 

“Of course it isn't.”

His shoulders slumped, and he felt like he'd run out of words to say. The gulf between them felt insurmountable. “I never wanted to see this. I never wanted to be here.”

“Oh, Rhys...” she reached out, then pulled back at the last moment. “No one ever does.”

He met her eyes, and opened his mouth again, when a knock came on the door, and they both jumped. 

“Who--?” Wynne hissed, but Rhys had a suspicion of who it was.

“Adrian?” he called.

The door opened, showing the redhead. “Good, you're both here,” she said, glancing at Wynne.

Rhys got to his feet. “What is it?”

“The Grand Enchanter is here,” Adrian said in a rush.

Wynne got to her feet as well. “I need to see her,” she said. “Adrian, where is she?”

“I—she's at the Spire,” Adrian said. “I just heard some of the Sisters talking about it.”

Wynne frowned.

“What are you going to do?” Rhys asked. 

“I need to see her,” she said. “Before the Conclave—it's important.”

“Wynne--” Adrian started, but Wynne brushed past her, her expression intent. She was gone.

Adrian looked at Rhys. “What did she have to say?”

Rhys shook his head. “It's more bad news from the military,” he said with a sigh. “Have you heard?”

Adrian winced. “Yes,” she said. “It isn't going so well. The Orlesians definitely picked a bad time to have their civil war.”

“I don't think anyone picks a time to have a war, Adrian.”

Adrian snorted. “That's what you think.”

“Why are you here, Adrian?” he sighed. Her passion was exhausting to him now, her nervous energy making him nervous in return. 

“The Grand Enchanter's probably going to call for a vote on secession again,” Adrian said.

Rhys nodded. “I know. Wynne thinks so too.”

Adrian raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes. She thinks that the Grand Enchanter won't leave until something drastic happens. And she knows her well enough, I suppose...”

“Well, it'd be about time,” Adrian said, hands on hips. “Rhys, do you know what this means?” she demanded.

“It means people will get hurt,” he snapped, and she raised her eyebrows, startled at his anger. 

“They were already doing that!” she countered. 

“No—if the Grand Enchanter calls a vote, then the Lord Seeker will--”

“Do whatever he was already planning to do!” Adrian shouted over him, and he was shocked into silence.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“What do you think Madame de Fer was talking about when she said that something bad was going to happen?” Adrian demanded. “Open your eyes for once in your life—didn't you see the way Her Holiness talked to him? Something's already gone very wrong, Rhys, and the best we can do is get out of the way!”

Rhys shook his head. “No--”

Adrian let out a frustrated growl. “Why are you so _dense_?” she demanded, her eyes overbright. “Will you talk to Wynne—tell her—tell her we need her on our side--”

“No,” he said. He couldn't use her the same way she'd used him. She could have gone to anyone else to be a medium, but she'd wanted him. “I can't do that.”

“Of course you can!” she threw up her hands. “Don't be an idiot! Everything's already going to the Void in a handbasket, what difference does it make?” 

“What difference—Adrian, this could make things worse!”

Adrian stared at him. “How?” she demanded, flabbergasted. “We are in the middle of a siege, Orlais is falling apart, it might just be the end of the world if I'm reading my dreams right, and you think us wanting to get away from all that would make it worse?”

“Adrian, it's not the end of the world,” Rhys sighed.

“No? Then what do you call that white wolf?”

“Just because people are seeing it doesn't mean--”

“Then what is it?” she demanded. “You're the spirit medium here!”

“I--” he sighed and sat back down. “Adrian...”

“I don't want to lose you,” she said. “I...” she shook her head and glared at him. “Never mind,” she snapped. “Never mind. If you won't help, if you won't get your head out of the damned sand, then don't worry about it.”

He reached out as she turned to leave, caught her wrist, and she glared at him.

“What?” she demanded. “What is it?” 

“I--” _I love you_ was on the tip of his tongue.

But it would have been a lie. 

_Don't leave me_ would have been more accurate. _You're my oldest friend. I'll be alone without you._

_Every other person I've ever cared about has left, please, don't you do it too--_

He was silent for too long. She stared at him, and after a moment, yanked her arm out of his grip. She turned and slammed the door behind her. He listened to her footsteps fade into the distance. 

The meeting of the College was tense, nervous, and convened in record time. Harried mages all gathered into a hall in the Grand Cathedral that was a little too small for all of them. The only Templars there were Evangeline and another man that Rhys didn't know. Evangeline wasn't even there to guard them, not truly, and was instead escorting Pharamond. 

The lack of Templars made Rhys nervous. He heard the other Enchanters murmuring about it, casting about and trying to see if there were guards of any kind.

Rhys went to stand by Evangeline and Pharamond, to get out of the way of the crowd. She and Pharamond seemed to be getting along quite well, actually, chatting quietly. Evangeline wore a very patient expression that looked odd on her, and when Rhys came closer, he realized she was listening to Pharamond give her a lengthy treatise on the minutae of minding the Circle libraries.

“And you wouldn't even believe how many young apprentices wander into the library with sticky fingers—oh, hello, Rhys,” Pharamond said a little too loudly and smiled. He was pale and shifted from foot to foot, clearly nervous.

“Hello, Pharamond,” Rhys summoned a smile. “Ser Evangeline.”

“Rhys,” Evangeline inclined her head in a respectful manner. “How are you?”

“I'm...well enough.” 

He and Evangeline looked at each other, Rhys rubbing the back of his neck. He didn't know what to say to her.

“I hope they get started soon,” Pharamond said. He looked around, his green eyes wide. “I still don't like these crowds!” 

“It will be alright,” Evangeline assured him, patting his shoulder gently. Rhys was struck with a sudden, bizarre feeling of jealousy. They had shared that terrible vision in the Fade, and yet Pharamond was the one she made moves to comfort, even though she and Rhys had been separated for days.

“Why are there so few Templars here?” Rhys asked, looking around to try and take his mind off of it.

“Her Holiness thought that you should have privacy,” the other Templar came up to them. He had a very deep, very calm voice. “She felt that since you were in the Grand Cathedral, you would be safer than you would be anywhere else.”

“And what did the Lord Seeker have to say about that?”

“Nothing. It is ultimately Her Holiness' choice on what goes on in the Grand Cathedral.” he smiled. “I am Ser Barris. You're Rhys?” 

Rhys nodded.

“And...Pharamond?”

“Yes,” Pharamond gave a slightly shaky smile. 

“A pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well!” Pharamond's voice cracked a bit, and Rhys winced, but neither Evangeline nor Barris moved a muscle. 

After a few moments, the Grand Enchanter took center stage.

Grand Enchanter Fiona was small and thin, wearing a plain woolen mages’ robe, her dark hair cropped short. She looked haggard, sleepless and worn. She was a stark contrast to tall and immaculate Vivienne. 

Despite this, she had a gravity to her that drew all eyes to her. She called for order, and immediately all attentions were fixed upon her.

“We're here, apparently, to discuss the findings of one Pharamond,” she pointed to him. “And how evidently he found a way to reverse Tranquility.”

Pharamond went dead white as all eyes turned to him. Evangeline gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder. Again, Rhys was struck with that frankly inappropriate surge of jealousy, and he snuck a look at Adrian, who stuck close by Fiona's side. His stomach felt knotted. 

“Um—yes,” Pharamond said, taking a deep breath. “Yes, I have.”

“Well, good,” Fiona said. “Pleased to hear it. Now that that's out of the way, let us move on to other matters, shall we?”

“Grand Enchanter...” Irving spoke in a warning tone, but Fiona spoke over him.

“Between the incident in Kirkwall, the hostilities in Orlais, and the bad dreams, the Circles have been put into jeopardy.”

“The dreams in particular are troubling,” First Enchanter Rivella, of Dairsmuid, spoke up. “Practically all the seers at Dairsmuid have been having bad omens...”

Fiona nodded. “Exactly so. So, we need to find a solution.”

“And what would that be?” drawled Raddick, of Starkhaven.

“The answer is obvious,” Fiona said. “We should secede.”

The hall was so quiet the drop of a pin could be heard.

The first one to speak was Madame de Fer, standing in one smooth motion. “Secession? Darling, what a quaint idea,” Vivienne’s tinkling laugh made Fiona scowl. “I am positive you do not realize the ramifications of that action.” 

“The _ramifications_ would be we are out from under the Templars’ boots,” Fiona snapped. 

“Yes, and with no protection of any kind should some villager not take kindly to having a mage about,” Vivienne said. “Oh, and of course, no one to stop demons.”

“Do not try and use that old argument on me,” Fiona snapped. “The Templars did not seem to do much good against the demons at Calenhad, did they? Ah, no, my memory becomes clear: it was myself, Commander Surana, Enchanter Wynne and _an apostate from a swamp_ who chased the demons out of there.”

“But you did have King Alistair with you on that little jaunt,” Vivienne said. “And I understand he has had Templar training.”

“This is neither here nor there,” Wynne interjected. “Secession will only cause more strife. You have seen the chaos outside—this is what results from civil war!”

“Unless, of course, war is what our dear Grand Enchanter wants,” Vivienne suggested. “After all, you appear to be quite in favor of violence, do you not?”

Fiona bared her teeth. 

“I'm sorry, are we just going to ignore how this man has reversed something we previously thought was as permanent as death?” demanded Enchanter Remille, a chubby woman with a shaved head. She pointed to Pharamond, who flinched. 

“I have seen a great many things,” Fiona said. “And magical research, though useful, is—not the most pressing matter at this time.”

“Why, that certainly tells us where your priorities lie, my dear,” Vivienne said with a little sniff. 

“This isn't the time for bickering,” Enchanter Sinclair said. He was an older elvhen man who most often wore a disapproving expression. “Grand Enchanter, you've been pushing secession for years—I'm not sure how likely it really is.”

“Yes, or how realistic,” Gwenael, the sole Enchanter from Nevarra, knotted her fingers together. 

Wynne opened her mouth to say something, but just as she did so, the door opened and Cassandrs walked in.

“Seeker Pentaghast,” Fiona looked wary, her brows knitted in worry, but she was not overly hostile. “Is something wrong?”

“Grand Enchanter,” Cassandra inclined her head. Barris came to stand by Cassandra's side. “Have you called a vote yet?”

“No, not yet. Why?” Fiona's eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

“Please, we urge you towards reconciliation,” Barris said.

Fiona frowned. “Why?”

“The Lord Seeker is planning something,” Cassandra explained. “And this tension will only make things worse.”

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before disbanding the College,” Fiona snapped. 

“That was not our decision!” Cassandra said.

“No, but it was the Divine's! Do you not advise her?”

“This is a delicate time,” Cassandra snapped. “We are trying to avoid an all-out split within the Chantry!”

“And a marvelous job you have done of that, my dear,” Vivienne said, her tone light. Cassandra glared at her. “What Seeker Pentaghast has not gotten the opportunity to tell you is that the Lord Seeker plans to kill the Divine.”

The hall was immediately in uproar. After several moments, Fiona managed to calm everyone down.

“What are you talking about?” she demanded.

Cassandra pushed the hair out of her eyes. “Lord Seeker Lambert has attempted to ally with General Dubois,” she said. “According to Dubois, who contacted us after he contacted her, if she lent him her army and they killed Justinia, Lambert would put his own Divine into power and appoint her the Empress.”

Rhys felt sick. 

“And why, exactly, would she tell you this?” Fiona demanded, glaring at Vivienne. 

“Because they only reason she would not ally with Lambert is if we could give her something that Lambert could not,” Cassandra said. “The aid of the Circles.”

The hall erupted into shouting again. Fiona slammed a fist down on the arm of her chair to call for silence.

“Enchanter de Fer,” she snarled. “Why did you know of this before the rest of us?”

“I was here ahead of the rest of you,” Vivienne said. “I had gotten an audience with Her Holiness some time ago, and I was the first to defend the city against that mob calling itself an army.” she tilted her head, her expression one of utter disdain. “Some individuals here actually have loyalty to their organizations, my dear, and the good Seeker thought that I was trustworthy enough to speak to.”

Fiona snorted. “Or, perhaps she was desperate,” she shook her head. “In any case—Seeker, I do not know what you would have us do. The Circles, lend their assistance to some despot?” she sneered. “I am certain you know how unappealing that idea is.”

“Is is the only one we have,” Cassandra said. “Believe me, I dislike it as much as you do.”

“You clearly do not, else you would not be asking.”

“This is ridiculous,” Enchanter Lothaire got to her feet. “You cannot treat us the way you have and then expect us to turn around and bolster your own failing leadership!”

Cassandra bristled at that, and Evangeline scowled. 

“We're well aware that you have been treated in a way that's less than fitting,” Barris said, raising his hands in a calming gesture “But under Justinia, your treatment will always be better than it would be under Lambert's Divine.”

“Who _doesnow_.”

Before anything could be done, someone pounded on the door. Fiona let out a vulgar oath, and Cassandra went white.

“What is going on, Seeker?” Fiona asked. 

“The worst thing that could be happening,” Cassandra murmured, drawing her sword.

The door banged open, and Lambert came striding in, followed by what seemed to be every Templar in the Spire.

“Lord Seeker--” Cassandra tried to interject, but Lambert cut her off.

“This will not continue,” he snapped. “This treason will be stopped.”

“Treason?” Cassandra was outraged. “You seek to kill the Divine!”

Lambert's mouth had a bitter twist to it. “I seek to protect the people from her foolish decisions,” he said, and took his sword from his sheath. 

“You are interrupting a legal gathering,” Evangeline stepped forward and Lambert snarled at her, making her move back.

“I don't believe he cares,” Fiona hissed, taking her staff off of her back. 

“Fiona, don't,” Wynne warned, putting out a hand, but it was too late. 

A spell crackled to life in Fiona's hands, and as it did so, a battle began. Spells began to fly everywhere, the smell of magic and smoke soon filling the room. Several Silences came down at once, and several of the mages began to fight physically, without magic. 

Evangeline grabbed Pharamond and ran towards the door. Rhys recovered himself and bolted for them, to be blocked by another Templar. He could hear Cassandra and Fiona both shouting, and smell the ozone scent of spellwork being done, saw a different Enchanter crack a Templar across the face with his staff, only for another Enchanter to be cut down by a sword. 

An explosion rocked the room, and quite suddenly one of the walls had a hole in it. Rhys just managed to catch the sight of Evangeline's blonde hair before another Silence caught him and the world went gray.


	5. Come Build In The Empty House Of The Stare

Everything was in utter chaos. Someone had opened the Sun Gates, and Dubois' soldiers poured in, clashing with the city Guard. Dubois herself headed straight for the Grand Cathedral looking for the Lord seeker.

Dubois went mostly unopposed. The Guard was little match for her army, and the Templars were keeping the mages occupied, leaving her people free to do as they wanted. 

Even from a street away, Dubois could see the flash and light of spellwork. As she got closer, she saw a plume of smoke rising from the Grand Cathedral, and another one at the Spire.

She let out a low whistle. Someone was certainly doing a great deal of damage to her city, that was for sure.

She met the Lord Seeker coming out of the gate of the Grand Cathedral. He bled from a wound in his temple. One hand was wrapped around the arm of a struggling elvhen woman. She thrashed and spat curses in Orlesian at him.

Dubois laughed.

“Lord Seeker, I see your gambit went well,” Dubois smirked as she looked at him. “Did I not say the mages were trouble?” 

Lambert snarled wordlessly at her. “In any case, they are no trouble now,” he said, yanking on the woman's arm.

“I wouldn't say that,” Dubois looked at her. “Who is this?”

The woman spat a truly vulgar insult at Dubois, one that made her raise her eyebrows.

“Ah,” she said. “A military woman, I see. I thought all you mages were scholars, locked up in your towers.”

“The Grand Enchanter,” the Lord Seeker hissed. He gave her a particularly harsh glare, and the world felt very solid for a moment. The woman went boneless, gasping for breath. 

Dubois rolled her eyes at the Lord Seeker's dramatics. “And you need her alive because...?”

“Examples must be made.”

The Grand Enchanter huffed an insult at the Lord Seeker's mother, and he smacked her. She hardly flinched. 

“Amazing.” Dubois said. “And the Divine?”

“We haven't found her yet.”

“Truly astonishing,” Dubois drawled. “And what of your Divine?”

“She will be in place soon enough. Even if we cannot kill Justinia this night, she can do nothing to refute the declaration of her death.”

“Right,” Dubois nodded. “And so will you hold up your end of the bargain?”

“I see you did not bother to assist me beyond sacking the city.”

“No, not yet, Lord Seeker.” she smirked. “I preferred to wait and see. And I see you have quite scattered the mages. A shame—I thought they would have been better warriors.” she tutted. “Oh well, it looks like I'll have no trouble getting inside of the city.” she looked at the walls. “Why, look at that,” she grinned. “I already have.” 

“You--”

“Oh, don't give me that face,” she waved a hand at him. “You got what you wanted. The mages are all in cages and Justinia is missing. She could even be dead. Just what you wanted.” she gave him a broad smile.

He scowled at her. “And what you wanted, as well.”

“Absolutely. So it works out well for everyone. Well, except her, I suppose,” she jerked her head towards the Grand Enchanter, who glared at her. 

_“Va te faire enculer_ ,” the smaller woman snarled. Dubois sighed and casually backhanded her. 

“What will it take for you to pull yourself together and start doing things _properly_ , Lord Seeker?” Dubois demanded, the Grand Enchanter reeling from the smack. “All these power plays and this righteous before the Maker nonsense—just kill her, put in your Divine, and be done with the matter.” 

“You do not command me,” Lambert said. “You will have what you desire—have no fear of that.”

She shrugged. “Then, if you don't mind, I'll be on my way.” 

 

Vivienne navigated the undercity. There was a series of tunnels that they had been using for supplies, and she hoped to escape through them. Everything was in complete disarray, and she cursed Fiona for delaying them. If she had not cared so cursed much about her precious freedom, if she had not split the mages in half, this might never have happened.

She came across Wynne, Evangeline, and Pharamond coming the other way.

“I see you made it out, Enchanter,” she said, looking Wynne over. Wynne was a little burnt around the edges, her hair with ashes in it, but seemed uninjured. The Templar was spattered with blood, her sword dripping in it, and she breathed heavily, but seemed unhurt as well. Pharamond was also a bit burnt, frost clinging to the corners of his eyes. 

“And you as well,” Wynne said. 

Vivienne nodded. She sighed and ran a hand over her head. 

“How long did you know about the Lord Seeker?” Evangeline asked.

“Only a few days before the Conclave,” Vivienne said. She shook her head. “Utterly vile—it is times like these that make me think Fiona has a point. It is difficult to see the use in the Seekers when their leader conducts himself so abominably.”

Evangeline seemed ashamed, her face flushing and shoulders hunching, but Vivienne cared little.

“He must have been planning this for a long time,” Evangeline offered, not looking at any of them.

Wynne pursed her lips. “Many things about the Lord Seeker have been suspicious,” she said.

“He is certainly very paranoid,” Vivienne agreed. “A poor candidate for the position he is in. He would rather waste resources on foolish missions and vendettas rather than doing what he is supposed to do.”

“This all started a long time ago,” Wynne sighed. “I think that if it had not been him, the Blight would have driven someone else to drastic action.” 

“You feel this has been stirring since the Blight?” Vivienne asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Of course,” Wynne said. “The moment Surana and Fiona started looking for power beyond the Circle, it got the Seekers' attention.”

“That only makes sense,” Evangeline said. 

Vivienne adjusted her sleeve, choosing not to bring up how she had sought power outside of the Circle, and the Seekers had chosen not to lose her minds over her. “Regardless of how it began, we must decide what to do next,” she said. “General Dubois' army has doubtless taken control of the city by now, and it is uncertain whether the Divine still lives.”

“What do you plan to do?” Wynne asked.

“My people need me,” she said. “I must return to Montsimmard and see if I can gather the last mages who are loyal to Justinia. The Lord Seeker will doubtless hunt us, regardless of our alliances—and most likely because of them. And what of you?”

“I must find Rhys,” Wynne said. “I need to save him.”

“What about the others?” Pharamond piped up with a shaking voice for the first time. “The other Enchanters, and those of the White Spire?”

Vivienne closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I can do little for them,” she said. “Just as I can do little for your Rhys, or for the others. Would that I could, but one must know when to retreat, and now is one of those times.”

“You care nothing for your fellow Enchanters?” Evangeline said.

Vivienne's expression frosted over. “My dear, I would quite love to go and perform some heroic deed to rescue them,” she said. “But the fact remains that while the Empress and the Divine are missing, we are all of us in danger, mage or no. I have a duty to the remaining mages and the people of the Empire, to protect them from harm.”

Vivienne stiffened suddenly, and turned, looking for something. She could feel something strange in the air, another presence.

“Is something wrong?” Evangeline asked.

“I feel...”

A figure seemed to materialize from the wall. A young man with filthy blond hair and tattered clothes, very thin, with hollow cheeks and enormous blue eyes. 

“You!” Wynne exclaimed. 

Vivienne’s lip curled. “What is this— _thing_?” he felt like a construct, radiating magic and dreams—not quite a demon, but certainly not a human.

“He isn’t a thing!” Evangeline exclaimed.

Vivienne stared at her, then to Cole, then back to Evangline again. 

“My dear, you are a Templar,” she said, her voice dripping with contempt. “You of all people should know better.”

Evangeline ignored her, to face Cole. “I was starting to forget,” she said. “I'm sorry...”

“That's alright,” Cole assured her. The blood drained from Vivienne's face until she was almost gray. 

“Ser Evangeline,” she said. “Get away from it.” 

“Vivienne, don't,” Wynne said. “He means no harm. Do you?” she regarded Cole with a calculating expression.

He shook his head. “I know a way to find Rhys,” he said. “The Lord Seeker hasn't killed him yet. Or a lot of the others.”

“Do you know why?” Evangeline asked.

“He wants--” Cole trailed off, tilting his head to one side as if listening to something. “He wants a show. Mages cannot be trusted, the people can't believe their lies of peace, it must be shown that they are beneath us, they are wrong--”

“Alright,” Evangeline said. “Alright. Where are they being held?”

“My dear, you cannot believe this thing,” Vivienne gestured to Cole. “Demons lie.”

“He's—a friend,” Evangeline said. 

“Demons pretend to be friends,” Vivienne insisted.

“if you do not trust her word, trust mine,” Wynne snapped. “He is not a hostile spirit.”

“Not at the moment, perhaps,” Vivienne sniffed. 

“I know,” Cole interjected. “I know where they are.” 

“Very well,” Wynne nodded. “Then we will go find them.”

“Do this foolhardy mission if you wish,” Vivienne said, and turned her back on them. “I will not be responsible for it.”

“No one asked you to be,” Wynne snapped. 

Vivienne gave a light laugh. “That, my dear, has never been more true.”

They watched her leave.

“She was afraid,” Cole said. “Demons, everywhere, Divine, gone, the walls pressing in, nothing had ever felt like a prison before, not like this, not like this--” he knotted his fingers together, blue eyes wide and nervous. 

“Are you sure Rhys is alive?” Wynne asked. “He hasn't—he hasn't--”

Cole nodded. 

Wynne let out a breath and ran a hand through her hair. 

“He's in a dungeon, with too many Templars,” Cole said. “That's why I had to find you. I can't get him out by myself.”

“Why do you want to help?” Wynne asked.

“Rhys helped me,” Cole said, avoiding her eyes and shifting from foot to foot. “Everything that happened to him, happened because of me. I have to do something.”

Wynne sighed. “I...thank you,” she said. 

“He's a Compassion spirit,” Pharamond piped up suddenly. He had been watching Cole with an intent gaze, and now looked as if he just realized something. “Of course he wants to help.”

Cole blinked, surprised. “Is that what I am?” he asked.

“How do you know?” Evangeline asked Pharamond. 

“Oh—well, one reason they made me Tranquil is I spent a bit too much time talking with spirits,” Pharamond said, flushing. “And then I spent a great deal of time researching the Fade at Adamant. You can—you can tell.”

“How?” Cole asked. “I didn't know.”

“No, I suppose you wouldn't,” Pharamond hummed. “Where...where did you come from?”

“The White Spire,” Evangeline explained. “He was...haunting the dungeons.”

“Oh,” Pharamond nodded. “I see. You must have come through the Veil by accident.”

Cole blinked. 

“I wasn't aware the Veil was that thin at the Spire,” Wynne said, alarmed. “It didn't feel that way when I was there--”

“No—Cole has memories, like a human,” Evangeline said, and Cole nodded. 

“I had a mother,” he said. 

“Well, spirits can adopt the memories of physical people,” Pharamond explained. “And even take their appearances. I'm sure you only meant well,” he assured Cole, who was now looking quite upset. 

Evangeline sighed. “These speculations can wait until later,” she said. “What do we do now?”

“I know a way inside,” Cole said. “I know where they're keeping him.”

Evangeline smiled. “In that case,” she said. “I believe I can come up with a plan...”

Outside Val Royeaux, in the hills, Justinia, Cassandra, Leliana and Barris walked. Justinia's habit was singed, and both Cassandra and Barris were liberally spattered with blood. The hills were trampled and burnt, after the army had been through them. They weren't here now, but their signs were obvious.

Justinia stopped and looked over her shoulder, stared at the smoldering silhouette of Val Royeaux behind her.

“We must keep moving, Most Holy,” Barris said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“I know, lad,” Justinia said. “Give an old woman time to catch her breath.” she sighed and wiped her face. 

“Who can we seek shelter with?” Cassandra asked.

“Lambert sabotaged our relationship with King Alistair,” Leliana said, her lips pursed. “Queen Aeducan—perhaps, if she were in the correct mood. The Dalish—never.”

Justinia closed her eyes and shook her head. “No, of course they wouldn't,” she murmured. “Are you quite certain King Alistair wouldn't offer us aid? You did fight with him in the Blight.”

Leliana sighed. “If something has happened to the Grand Enchanter, he will likely reject us,” she said. “As far as he is aware, we are still aligned with the Lord Seeker.”

“Despite you?' Cassandra asked.

“We were never the closest of friends. The Lord Seeker chasing Surana out of the country still hurts them, and the fact that I could not stop it...no, if Fiona is dead or imprisoned he will not be our ally.”

“If Celene yet lives--” Justinia began, then cut herself off and shook her head. “But we do not know if she yet lives.”

“Ambassador Montilyet and the Montilyet family will surely help,” Leliana nodded. “But other than that, we are perilously short on allies.”

“Then we will go to the Montilyets,” Justinia said. “After that...” she closed her eyes. 

“We will have a plan,” Barris said. “I am sure of it, Most Holy.”

Justinia gave him a weak smile. “Of course, before we have a plan, we must make our way there,” she said.

“Of course, Most Holy,” Cassandra said. “We should continue on.” 

Lambert shook his head, closing the cell door behind him.

None of the mages cooperated—those that were still alive and able to be found, anyway. The Grand Enchanter continued to scream insults, and many of the other First Enchanters either followed her example or sunk into despair. One quoted lines from the Chant of Light until Lambert had backhanded him just to shut him up. 

Rhys, the last remaining member of the party who had gone to Adamant, was alternately mocking and despairing, and none of it was of any use to him. The Divine was still missing, no one retrieving her body or the body of her allies. 

He cursed himself for continuing to allow Cassandra to remain a Seeker. He had known she must have been spying for Justinia, how could she not have been, but he had let her remain for fear of Justinia's retaliation. 

“Still fussing about the mages?” Dubois fell into step beside him. The incorrigible woman practically bounced on her heels, the thrill of victory not having left her. “They won't take your paltry offers, you know. You'd have to let them live for that to happen.”

“Perhaps they would be willing to save their souls,” Lambert growled, looking straight ahead instead of meeting her eyes. 

“Oh, don't be foolish, giving me all that pious talk,” she tutted and waved a dismissive hand. “You just want them to grovel before you.” she clapped him on the back, ignoring his glare. “Not to worry, Lord Seeker,” she said with a grin. “I'd want Celene and Gaspard crawling before me, too. It's a natural impulse. I just don't think it'll happen with this lot.”

Lambert shook his head. Dubois made his skin crawl, her gleeful disregard for morality appalling, but he still needed her if he was to hold the city. 

“How soon are you going to get rid of them?” she asked.

“Soon,” he said. “A day, maybe. Enough time to allow the civilians to come together and watch it happening.”

She nodded. “Good idea,” she said. “No one'll pull anything once they see you kill them.”

“That is not the point.”

“Oh, you can't fool me,” she teased. “Either way—what do you plan to do after?”

“Elthina is on her way here,” he said. “Half the Grand Clerics are on my side, but the other half must be convinced.”

“I see,” Dubois nodded. “You could, of course, kill them.”

“I believe that the threat of the mages will convince them of Justinia's mistake.”

“The threat of the mages?” she laughed, as airy and bright as if she were at a garden party. “My good man, you plan to kill all the mage leaders. No, I think in this case the threat must come from you, or else they will not listen.”

Lambert glared at her. “I do what must be done,” he said.

“Of course,” she nodded. “Of course! Who ever said that you didn't?” she rolled her shoulders back. “I need to speak to my troops,” she said. “I can't let them loot the whole city.”

“Have you been having trouble with any of the nobility?”

“No, not really,” Dubois said. “Just the city guard, but as soon as we reached the Palace a lot of them started surrendering.” she smiled, and her lips peeled away from her teeth, her delighted expression giving way to a more savage one. “Smart.”

“I see.” Lambert scowled. “Inform me if the nobility do cause any trouble,” he told her. “They can be more difficult than you know.”

“Don't presume to order me about,” she snapped, and he glanced at her. “I'll deal with it. Anyway, I've dealt with idiot nobles my whole life,” she said, her tone lightened, and she grinned again. “I can handle them.”

He nodded. “As you will. I must speak with my own people. Elthina will be here soon, and we need to corral the Clerics.”

“Do that,” she nodded. “I'll see you,” she gave him a lazy, somewhat mocking salute and sauntered off. 

He glared after her. The tension in the air eased with her departure, as she took her savagery with her. He seemed to have a habit of acquiring unstable allies. He had no doubt that she would return to cause trouble in the future.

“Lord Seeker?”

Lambert turned to see Meredith. Her red eyes gleamed in the light, and her voice had that strange reverberating quality. Speaking of unstable allies...

“Stannard,” he nodded in greeting. “Have any of the other Seekers arrived?” Most of the Seekers were still at Therinfal Redoubt, forcing Lambert to rely upon the Templars still. 

Meredith nodded. “They have sent word,” she said. “Now that the roads are clear, they are more easily able to come this way.” 

“I see. Was there anything else?”

She let out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. She seemed exhausted, as many of the Templars did. Even the red lyrium could not restore them as pure lyrium was able to.

“There is one thing,” she said. 

“What? Come, I have little time.”

She drew her sword from its sheath.

“Stannard, what are you--” 

She slammed her sword into him, and he barely got his shield up in time to stop her. He needed to grab for his own sword, but she pushed him so hard he didn't dare lower his shield to take it.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“I hear a greater voice than that of men,” Meredith whispered, her red eyes huge and manic. “A greater voice than yours.” 

Lambert struggled against her, trying to force her back, but she was easily as strong as he was, and the red lyrium--

_The red lyrium--_

“A greater voice than that of the Maker?” Lambert grunted.

Meredith blinked, confusion passing over her face for a moment, and he took the opportunity to finally shove her off him. He bashed her with his shield, but she shoved him off, her broadsword a match for his shield.

“I hear the voice of the Maker more clearly than you ever would!” she proclaimed.

“You are mad,” Lambert snapped.

The door slammed open, and Dubois charged in. She had her sword out and a spray of blood was spattered across her cheeks.

“Lambert!” she shouted. “Your bloody Templars—oh, Andraste's ass,” she brought her sword up just in time as Meredith turned to her. 

Finally, Lambert could take out his sword, and they both charged Meredith, but she moved with an unnatural speed and strength. 

With a snarl, she cracked her sword across his shield, and he cried out—she had snapped his shield with the blow, and he clutched his arm to his chest. 

Dubois brought her sword down, but Meredith whirled and blocked her. Dubois' eyes widened as Meredith forced her back. 

“Lord Seeker!” she shouted.

Lambert's breath was coming in short, sharp gasps, and pain radiated from his arm up to his shoulder. With effort, he swung his sword and caught Meredith across the back. She let out a grunt of pain and turned to face him, her sword still against Dubois'. 

The door banged open again, and more Templars came through, these ones all with eyes that gleamed a telltale red. 

Meredith backed up, to form ranks with the Templars.

“What are you doing?” Lambert demanded.

“The Elder One comes,” Meredith hissed. “Can you not hear it? A voice greater than that of men—no priest or Cleric--”

“What are you babbling about?” Dubois exclaimed. “This is nonsense!”

From outside, someone attacked one of the Templars, slamming a sword down on his head. The one who had come to their aid was a female Templar who had the shakes and greasy hair of lyrium withdrawal. 

“Come on,” Dubois said, charging ahead. She and the female Templar broke the ranks of the hostile Templars. Lambert followed them, bad arm still clutched to his chest, and the three of them ran down the hall, the Templars on their heels.

Dubois' soldiers had raised the alarm, and they quickly began to swarm through the cathedral. Lambert searched for a medic, while Dubois assisted her men in driving the Templars away. Though the hostile Templars were stronger, they were also much fewer in number, and after a great deal of fighting, they were forced out of the Grand Cathedral. 

Dubois' soldiers chased them through the city, but a large number of them got away, killing many of the soldiers in the process. 

Dubois sheathed her sword at last, and when to locate Lambert. Lambert was away from the fighting, and had still not found the medic. His lips were tinged green and he was sweating with the pain from his broken arm.

“What,” she hissed to Lambert. “In the name of Andraste's sanctified girdle was _that?_ ”

Lambert could only shake his head.

“I—I don't know,” he hissed.

“Lambert, if this is the best your people can offer, I am going to find Justinia and put her back on the sunburst throne myself--!”

“You needn't do that,” Lambert caught sight of Cullen, Meredith's second. Though his sword was sheathed, his hair was damp with sweat and there was a spray of blood over his armor, indicating that he had been fighting.

“You,” Lambert hissed. 

“Who is this?” Dubois asked as Cullen approached. 

“Lord Seeker,” Cullen began, holding his hands up. “I swear, I didn't know--”

In spite of his injured arm, Lambert moved quickly. With his good arm, he shoved Cullen up against a nearby wall. “You were her second—do you have any idea what she was talking about?”

“No, no, I swear!” Cullen gasped. “I don't know any more of what was happening than you do!”

“Why?” he snarled. “Why did she do it? Did she say anything, do anything--?”

“It was—the Templars that were hostile were—the ones who took the red Lyrium--” Cullen gasped. “Not all of us did—just her—and some of the others--”

Lambert let Cullen go. He gasped, his chest heaving. 

Lambert leaned heavily against the wall. “Meredith thought she had found a solution to the lack of lyrium. Now...” he shook his head. “I think it is clear that she has not.”

Cullen nodded, staring around at the bodies of the hostile Templars that they had killed.

“I suppose not,”

Dubois laughed. “You suppose? Nothing gets much past you, does it?” she kicked one of the Templars over and looked down at him, examining him closely. She moved back with a cry of disgust.

“What is it?” Lambert demanded.

“He has—something— _growing_ on him, under his armor!” Dubois exclaimed, pointing at the corpse.

Lambert looked, and levered the man's breastplate up with the tip of his sword. Under his armor, on his skin grew strange red growths, like red stone. He stared, baffled.

“What is that?” he murmured.

“Red lyrium,” Cullen breathed.

They both stared at him.

“What?” Lambert said.

“That's what it looks like when it's raw,” Cullen said. “I don't—I don't know what it's doing on him, though.”

Dubois let out a harsh imitation of a laugh. “Lord Seeker, if this is your idea of help, I'm going to go and let all those mages out myself,” she snapped. “This is pure insanity—and you claim the mages are dangerous!”

“Get a hold of yourself,” Lambert snapped. “Cullen, do you know anything else? Does anyone?” 

Cullen's eyes darted from Dubois to Lambert and he shook his head. “N-no,” he stuttered. “There was rumors of red lyrium—infection in Kirkwall, but I never thought--”

“Infection?” Dubois gasped. “This stuff is a disease?”

“That's just what the dwarves called it!” Cullen raised his hands. “That's why Meredith and some of the others were using the tainted stuff. We couldn't get any more because the dwarves had cut off trade.”

Dubois let out a hard breath through her nose. Then she grabbed Cullen by his front, shoving her face to his. “The dwarves—the ones who know the most about lyrium—call it an infection, a disease, and your idiot Commander still used it?” she snarled. “Think! What if it infects Val Royeaux as well?” 

“This is not of my doing,” Cullen exclaimed, struggling in her grip, but she refused to let go. “I have never taken it--”

“Why did they call it an infection? What _is_ it?”

“I don't know,” Cullen shook his head fervently. “I don't know—they just said that there was something wrong with it, that they didn't want to be near it--”

Dubois let Cullen go with a hiss. “We need to find the dwarves,” she snapped. “Contact Orzammar and see what they know. I won't have my throne be overrun by some—some _thing_ you idiots brought here.”

“The dwarves will most likely not speak to you,” Lambert said, scowling.

She glared at him. “Aye, and that's due to you,” she snarled. “Because she'd have no problems with _me_ , so it must be with you.”

Lambert narrowed his eyes. “The dwarves are heretics,” he said with a wave of his hand. “It is worthless to speak with them.”

“Then who would you suggest?” she demanded. “The mages know about illness, but you locked them up. The Wardens know about the Blight, but you chased them away. The Dalish and the Avvar know herbalism and magic, but you--”

“Enough!” Lambert snapped. “If you dislike your own allies so much, I do not see why you are still here.”

“Because, idiot, you are the one who promised me victory!” she snarled. “Justinia gave me nothing. And you have given me this city—but these fools under you would rot it away again if only given the chance!”

“Elthina would know who in Kirkwall knows of red lyrium,” Lambert said. “If Kirkwall indeed had an infection, someone has to know about it.”

“And how to reverse it?”

Lambert shrugged, and Dubois let out a disgusted noise and turned her back on him. Before she could speak again, the door banged open and another Templar barged inside. Dubois, Cullen, and Lambert all drew their swords in an instant, but the Templar was a friendly one.

“What is it?” Lambert demanded.

“Lord Seeker,” the Templar gasped. “The mages are gone.”

Fiona realized something was wrong when she heard fighting outside her cell, but it was only the sounds of swords and shields. There were no spells, no explosions, no telltale smell of lightning or snow. 

She peered peered outside the window to her cell. 

At first, she saw nothing. 

Then she saw one Templar bodily hurl another right past her cell, and fall upon him with her sword. The attacking Templar had a strange red aura and she could feel the Fade around them warping.

Fiona blinked. “What in the name of Andraste...” she breathed, watching the Templars fight. 

Suddenly there were even more Templars in the hall, all fighting each other. Some soliders bearing Orlesian armor and Dubois' heraldry came in as well, and Fiona backed away from the door, realizing that outside was utter chaos.

Something slammed against the door, and she winced. She hoped no one would break it down. The room she was in had enough magic suppressing wards to prevent her doing any significant fighting. 

More banging and bashing, and her door dented and bent. It seemed no one was actively trying to get inside, more that her door was a casualty in the fight. Again, she tried to peer outside. No one paid her any mind. 

Eventually, the fight moved on. After several minutes, she tried her door. With some effort, it could be forced open. The lock had taken a great deal of damage, as well as the door itself.

As soon as she was outside, she felt the rush of her magic come back to her again. Carefully, she surveyed the hall. There were several dead Templars, some with a strange red glow about their person and a very bad feeling emanating from their bodies. 

She knocked on the door next to hers. No one. She pursed her lips. The dungeons of the Spire were deep, and she might have to go some ways to find her fellow mages, especially if Lambert had made good on his promises.

Another quiet hallway over, and she finally found someone after knocking on the window of a cell door.

A man she recognized as Rhys popped his head in the window.

“What's doing on?” he demanded.

“The Templars are fighting each other,” Fiona said, blinking. 

“What?” Rhys exclaimed.

“Didn't you see?”

Rhys shook his head. “I could only hear the fighting, not see who was doing it. Are you sure?”

Fiona nodded, and hit the lock on his door with a bolt of magic. “Come on,” she said, opening the door. “We need to find the others.”

Rhys nodded and gave a sigh of relief when he stepped into the hall. “You're sure it was Templars?” he asked again.

Fiona nodded. “I saw. They were fighting each other, and some of Dubois' men.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Rhys breathed.

“No,” Fiona agreed, shaking her head slowly. “No, it does not.” she bit her lip. “Some of the Templars have—they were--” she sighed. “I hardly know how to explain it. Here—I will show you should we come across one of their bodies.”

“What do you mean?” 

She walked so quickly he almost had to jog to keep up with her. She pursed her lips. “It seems—I don't know. Some of them have this...red glow about them, and a feeling in the air, as if they were possessed.”

“Could that be possible?”

“It is very unlikely.”

Rhys shrugged. “Lots of unlikely things seem more likely now.”

“Quite true.”

They opened the doors to the other cells, and the other surviving Enchanters all came out, looking confused and worried.

“Fiona,” one of the Jader enchanters said. “What's going on? I can hear fighting--”

“The Templars are fighting each other,” Fiona explained.

“What?” Adrian exclaimed. “Why?”

Fiona shook her head. “I could not say.”

“We need to get out of here,” another enchanter said.

Fiona nodded. “Absolutely. Does anyone know how--”

“Quiet, everyone!” hissed another enchanter, and they all stopped. The sound of two people's footsteps was coming around the corner. Slowly, the mages all raised their hands, spells at the ready.

Around the corner came Wynne and Evangeline. They all froze for a moment, staring at each other.

“Evangeline!” Rhys cried. 

“Rhys!” Evangeline said. “What’s going on?”

“How did you all already escape?” Wynne asked. 

“Fiona let us out,” Adrian said.

“What's happening?” Evangeline demanded. “We heard fighting--”

“We haven’t any idea,” Fiona growled. “This wasn’t our doing—they started fighting each other.”

“Each other?” Wynne looked horrified. 

Fiona smirked. “I wonder what Madame de Fer would think of that?” she said. 

“This doesn’t make any sense!” Evangeline exclaimed.

“What does it matter?” Fiona asked. “Qe have a chance to escape. We must take it!”

Evangeline nodded. “Of course,” she said. “Come, this way—we will escape the same way we came in.”

“Where is Pharamond?” Rhys asked. “Did he escape with you?”

“He is safe enough for now,” Evangeline said. “Still in the undercity.”

Rhys took her aside. “And Cole?” he asked, quiet enough for no one to hear. “Has he returned?”

Evangeline nodded. “He was the one who told us the way inside. He should be waiting for us with Pharamond, but he might have left.”

Rhys nodded.

“Did any of the other enchanters escape?” Fiona asked. “Madame de Fer is not here--”

“She escaped,” Wynne said. “But I don't know about the others.”

“What about the Divine?”

“Missing.”

Fiona cursed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Then the Chantry is collapsing around us,” she said. “More than ever, we must get out of the way.”

“Fiona...” Wynne said.

“Wynne, there are no more Circles to be loyal to, so I suggest you change your arguments.”

“Fiona, splitting us apart will not--”

“Lambert already divided us,” Fiona snapped. “Can you not see those who would kill us?”

“Of course but—we must find Justinia, restore order--”

“We can speak of this later,” Evangeline said. “When we are all safe. What happened to the mages of the Spire?”

Fiona shook her head. “Annullment,” she said. “I hope some made it out, the battlemages especially, but...” she trailed off.

“Oh no,” one of the enchanters covered her mouth. 

“So, what do you think of the Circles now?” Adrian muttered to Evangeline. “Are they worthy protectors? Killing innocents and children?”

Evangeline was silent.

“Adrian, enough,” Wynne.

“If we must be killed by her people, then she can bear it if I talk about it once or twice,” Adrian snapped.

“Adrian, I know,” Evangeline murmured.

“What was that?”

“I--” she closed her eyes. “I know what they do is wrong,” she said, in a voice so quiet they had to strain to hear her.

“Oh,” Adrian seemed mollified for a moment. “Well, that's certainly a first.”

“We cannot linger here,” Evangeline said. “What are we to do now?” 

“The Seekers attempted to kill us,” Fiona snapped. “I think it is obvious what we need to do.” she growled to herself and stormed on ahead. “I need to speak to King Alistair.”

“King Alistair?” Wynne fell into step beside her. “Why?”

“He will help us,” Fiona said.

“How are you so sure?” Evangeline asked, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

To their surprise, Fiona smiled. “Oh, trust me,” she said. “He will.”

Wynne narrowed her eyes at Fiona as well, but her confidence in turn made them more confident as well.

They returned to the tunnels, and found Pharamond and Cole, although Cole refused to reveal himself to anyone but Evangeline and Rhys. He even shied away from Wynne, although he had been happy to show himself to her earlier.

“Are you alright?” Rhys asked when he saw Cole again. 

Cole nodded. “Yes. They can't hurt me if they can't find me. The Lord Seeker sees demons everywhere, not just me.”

Evangeline sighed. “I know,” she said. She glanced over her shoulder, where Fiona was conferring with the other enchanters about what to do next.

“What are you going to do now?” Rhys asked. “You should come with us.”

Cole shook his head. “I—I don't know,” he said. “I want to help, but...I don't know if you need me so badly now.”

“Why not?” Evangeline asked. 

“The Lord Seeker was the one who hurt you,” Cole explained. “If no one stops him, he'll hurt more people.”

“Cole,” Rhys began slowly. “What are you thinking of doing?”

“I'm going to help,” Cole said. “Don't worry. A friend is coming.”

“A friend? What do you--” Rhys blinked, and Cole was gone. He and Evangeline looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Do you think he'll be alright?” Rhys asked.

Evangeline shook her head. “I don't know,” she said. “I hope so. What do you think he meant by, 'a friend?'” 

“I don't know that, either,” Rhys said with a sigh. 

They followed Fiona and Wynne out of the tunnels, dodging any hostiles they found instead of trying to fight them. It took some doing, but at last, they were out of the city.

“So, we go to Ferelden now?” Wynne asked. 

Fiona nodded. “We should likely contact Queen Aeducan first,” she mused.

“The dwarven queen?” Evangeline was surprised. “Why her?” 

“She is a friend of ours,” Wynne explained. “Or at least, she is a friend of Warden-Commander Surana's.”

“She will at least give us shelter,” Fiona said, her tone very certain. 

So they made for the Deep Roads, val Royeaux burning in the distance behind them. 

_“Gone_?” Lambert snarled.

The Templar nodded, and Lambert's face grew even darker.

“Oh, wonderful,” Dubois drawled. 

Lambert stepped forward. Cullen stepped back.

Lambert’s chest heaved.

“Lord Seeker?” Cullen said. 

Lambert rounded on the other man. “You—shut up,” he snarled. “You have no explanation for Meredith, and as far as I am concerned, no use at all. Be silent.”

Cullen closed his mouth with a snapped. 

“I see your plan worked out _marvelously_ , Lord Seeker,”

“General Dubois,” Lambert growled in a warning tone.

Dubois grinned, but her face was tense. “The mages fled, half of your Templars fled, the Divine gone—seems that things didn't quite go according to plan, did they?”

Lambert scowled. 

She hummed to herself. “You best get a move on with your allies,” she said. “Because otherwise, I am finding the mages myself.”

“You cannot--”

“Who are you to say what I can and cannot do?” she snarled. “I don't see that you have your Divine right now.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, before Dubois turned on her heel and left. 

Lambert finally located a medic who wrapped up his arm, then returned to a set of rooms that could serve as his for the time being. He collapsed onto the bed, needing sleep as he had not needed it in a very long time.

A flash of steel caught his eye and he was awake in an instant.

In the darkest corner of the room was a young man he somehow hadn't noticed until just now, a man with the waxy skin of a corpse and pale blue eyes almost hidden by a fringe of strawlike blond hair. 

He grabbed his longsword and leaped up from the bed, but in an eyeblink the figure was behind him, the knife in his hand at Lambert's throat.

“You hurt people,” the man murmured in Lambert's ear. “You won't anymore.”

Lambert slammed down a Smite and the man—the demon—whatever it was stumbled, his knife easing off of Lambert's throat. Lambert took the moment to slash the man's chest, and he briefly felt his sword connect with something before it vanished. Droplets of blood fell to the floor, but the figure was gone. 

Pain shot through his back, and he looked down to see a wicked blade thrust through his chest. He blinked, rather surprised, and everything began to go gray.

In the shadows, a figure with blue eyes watched Lambert's body. A long wound in Cole’s chest oozed blood lazily, but he wasn’t sure what it meant. 

Absently, he pressed a hand to the injury. 

Lambert was dead. But there were other deaths that were still needed.

Orzammar was a strange place, and strangely welcoming. Rhys had never seen its like. It distracted him from the war, and how Adrian refused to speak with him anymore. They few times he had attempted to make conversation, he had been coldly rebuffed.

He would go and speak with Evangeline, but she was still busy with Pharamond. The two were hardly ever separate, and Rhys could still not help that strange, inappropriate surge of jealousy he got whenever he saw the two of them.

Wynne was busy as well, meeting with the Queen and the Prince-consort. He hadn't realized exactly how important she was. He'd never bothered to think on it, never bothered to ask. 

He was free of the Circle at last, as he had always wanted. He supposed that was something, and he tried to think only of that as he stood amidst the crowd of enchanters who were being sheltered by the Queen.

The other enchanters were fascinated with Orzammar, and spoke to each other, curious, anxious, uncertain of the future.

No one so much as spared a glance for Rhys.

While the other enchanters were settling in, Fiona and Wynne met with Culwydd and Zevran, who explained what had been going on.

“Celene has gone?” Fiona asked. 

Culwydd nodded. “She insisted. We were hardly going to keep her.”

Wynne sighed. “I can only hope she makes it back to Val Royeaux,” she said.

Culwydd and Zevran exchanged a dark look.

“We heard,” Zevran said. “Things are not going well there, are they?”

Wynne and Fiona shook their heads. 

“No,” Wynne said. “No, they are not.”

Culwydd sighed. “The Coalition claims they apprehended—someone,” she said. “Someone suspicious.”

“Suspicious?” Fiona asked, leaning forward.

“An elvhen man,” Zevran explained. “Who appeared to be a Dalish mage, but had a very suspicious way about him. He refused to say who his Clan was or where they came from, and when we questioned him, he vanished. According to Feynriel Tualsalis, he has a wall around his dreams as well.”

“And what does all of that mean?”

“Keeper Lanaya thinks he was an agent of Fen'harel,”

Fiona and Wynne raised their eyebrows. Zevran chuckled.

“Ah, I do not really believe that myself. But he was certainly a representative of some power that is not known to us and does not wish to be known.”

Fiona nodded. “We must get to Denerim,” she said. “I could not ask your people to house all of the mages.”

“But you will ask Alistair?” Zevran asked, raising an eyebrow.

Fiona chuckled. “Ah—it is a long story,” she said. “But yes. And this is more our fight than it is yours. I would not want to bring the Chantry upon your heads.”

“Fiona, we might be better placed to deal with the problem,” Culwydd reasoned. “But...” she sighed and exchanged another look with Zevran. “If that is what you wish.”

“It is,” Fiona said. 

In the estate of the Montilyets, Justinia stared out of a window, contemplating. 

“Your Holiness...” Cassandra opened the door and she and Leliana quietly moved into the room.

Justinia shook her head and continued to look out the window. Outside, the sun was rising, and it was red, as it had been many days before now.

Her mouth tightened. She grew so weary of bad omens.

“Your Holiness, we did try...” Cassandra tried again, and Justinia raised her hand. Cassandra was immediately silent.

“Cassandra.”

“Yes?” 

“We need an Inquisition.”

Cassandra and Leliana looked at each other. 

“We have no other options,” Justinia continued, though neither of them had contradicted her. “It is the last path we have open to us.” 

“You know what Lambert will say,” Leliana said. 

Justinia nodded. “Demons, heresy, blood magic—whatever option puts him the right. I know.” she sounded very tired. 

“We have no forces,” Cassandra said. “No army, the Templars and the Seekers both gone, the mages gone--”

“If we are no longer trying to dodge Lambert, we can call upon Orzammar and Ferelden. Perhaps—if they understand the dire need of the situation...”

Leliana and Cassandra glanced at each other again, Leliana looking dubious. 

“If that is what you wish, Holiness,” Leliana said.

“It is,” Justinia said. “I will have a writ soon. In the meantime...” she sighed. “War is coming. We must prepare for it.”


End file.
